


I was yours before you were mine ( or so I thought )

by The_Littlest_Hellspawn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, Bisexual Character, Canonical Character Death, F/F, F/M, Fluff, I have no clue regarding these tags, Lesbian Character, Mutual Pining, School Years 4-7, These two will be gay idiotic and in love, no beta we die like men, slowest of burns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:55:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 46,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26496745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Littlest_Hellspawn/pseuds/The_Littlest_Hellspawn
Summary: Harry Potter’s twin sister Tilly falls on her face for the gorgeous nerdy daughter of two of the most insane death eaters to ever stand by Voldemort’s side. Helena Lestrange. Helena is tall, soft and smitten over magical creatures. Tilly is small, sarcastic and about to have every single carefully crafted wall knocked down by a certain Ravenclaw.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 12
Kudos: 40





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This was an idea that has been slamming around my head for more than a year. This is more to get it out of my mind than anything else, but if anyone happens to enjoy it then I guess that's a happy little coincidence. I have a non existent update schedule which I will apologise in advance for. However I truly do hope to give this story an ending because I think it deserves one. If you happen to be reading this then I hope you enjoy my story, or at least appreciate it for what it is - a dumping ground for every single gay emotion I have ever felt.

Our story follows Matilda Potter, although to most people it’s Tilly. Her twin brother Harry is typically the one people talk about when the name Potter is mentioned, but Tilly always felt this was unfair as she was also there that night, and she believes that she survived just as well as her brother did. If not better - given the absence of a scar on her forehead. But no, everyone wants to talk about the boy who lived, and not the girl who had sat and watched. She guess she understood that as it doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.

Since being introduced to this magical world of wonder and near death experiences she’d learnt a few things about who she is and where she came from. One of them being that she has been told from most older witches or wizards that she perfectly resembles a young Lily Evans. Where Harry supposedly is a carbon copy of James Potter but with Lily’s eyes. She has her mother’s long unruly ginger hair, no glasses and of course the famous piercing green eyes, which marks the one physical trait that connects her and her twin.

The first time Matilda Potter saw Helena Lestrange wasn’t a memorable moment by any stretch. A mess of long black curls had swept past her in the hallway as the young girl had been franticly trying to find her classroom in the first weeks of school. Her arms filled to the brim with more books than Tilly could even imagine being necessary. Vivid blue eyes had turned to meet curious green ones as she’d whipped round to mutter a quick apology for bumping into her, before dashing around the nearest corner in search of her intended class. An innocent interaction, easily fading from memory.

Two girls. One a gorgeous soft nerd, smitten with magical creatures and with a last name that’ll make you want to keep your distance. The other our stubborn, sarcastic, potion genius protagonist who may or may not fall on her face over the aforementioned witch. This is their story.


	2. The Quidditch World Cup

As the Portkey dumped the group rather unceremoniously onto the ground, Tilly Potter groaned. Managing to extract herself from the pile of limbs, but not without delivering an accidental kick in the face to Ron, she stood up to survey the surroundings. They appeared to be on a misty moor where nothing but white murk could be seen. She turned to offer Hermione a hand in getting up and could hear Mr Weasley conversing with a couple of wizards attempting to pass as Muggles behind her.

Mr Weasley beckoned everyone to follow him and the group made their way towards the campsite, giving Tilly her first glimpse of the Wizarding World Cup. While the Muggle organising the tents went on about weird people in odd clothing and strange money, Tilly extracted the Muggle notes from Mr Weasley’s hands so she could give him the correct money to pay the man. He nodded his thanks at the girl and confidently thrust the money towards the babbling Muggle. Not long later the poor man had been obliviated by a tired looking wizard muttering curses about Ludo Bagman.

They passed rows upon rows of obscure tents evidently owned by wizards attempting to blend in, some featured turrets and chimneys, others had full on front gardens. Tilly chuckled, amused at the wizard’s attempts at appearing like Muggles.

Eventually they reached an empty plot reserved for the Weasley’s. Tilly, Harry and Hermione did their best to build the tents and eventually ended up with two standing, shabby but proud.

She shared a quizzical look with her twin and Hermione as they all did the mental maths regarding the size of their party and the two small tents before them. Then Mr Weasley pulled back the tent flaps and beckoned them all inside, and Tilly faltered. Of course wizards wouldn’t have normal tents she reasoned with herself as she admired the inside space which was more or less the size of a three bedroom flat.

Ginny pulled her and Hermione into the other tent where the girls would be sleeping. The two redheads playfully shoved at each other in an effort to claim the top bunk. Ginny won after she had lunged for the ladder and propelled herself off of Tilly to do so. Hermione shook her head, amused at the two girls and settled for the lower bunk, while Tilly threw her bag on the single bed opposite.

+++

Where Harry, Ron and Hermione had gone off to collect water, Tilly and the twins had been sent in search of wood to start the fire. They had passed by even more rows of tents where wizards and witches were just starting to wake up. Two young wizards no older than 3 had shot past them wearing green child sized quidditch robes, they appeared to be chasing a large plush toy snitch and were howling with laughter. Three late-teen aged American witches were giggling over their breakfast, they wore blue jumpers with the word ‘Ilvermorny’ stitched into the back and an image of a thunderbird on the front.

Fred decided on a clearing not far into the woods in which to collect sticks for the fire, the trio chatted about the twins various plans for their Ton-Tounge Toffees and other such items in the making. As they were making their way back with armfuls of sticks Tilly was suddenly knocked clean over. The pile of sticks cluttered unceremoniously as she lay sprawled across the ground, having always had a short temper and with the added bonus of being sleep deprived she immediately whipped her head up to deliver a verbal assault upon her assailant. However when she saw the person about to receive her wrath she faltered.

The girl’s eyes, that’s the first thing she noticed. Vivid, startling, blue and filled with concern at having been the cause of the current predicament. Long, curly, jet black hair swung loose and messy in front of the girl’s face, creating an extremely windswept appearance. She was bent down on one knee attempting to pick up every stick that had been thrown to the ground while muttering apologies about not looking where she was going and having lost her cousin.

Tilly felt her anger melt at how apologetic and frantic the girl appeared to be. Once she had collected the sticks into a decent pile she offered a hand to help Tilly back up.

“Its alright, no worries,” she assured, taking the girl’s outstretched hand and allowing herself to be pulled up. The hand was warm, calloused and had a strong grip, Tilly noted while being set upright. Collecting the messy stick pile at her feet she fixed the girl with a sincere smile and was about to make a joke about having been knocked on her arse under worse circumstances than this.

Then a voice rung out from behind the nearest row of tents. “Lena! Come on, we need to get back to the tent, Mum is trying to make a fire and Dad asked us to keep an eye because you know she’s never used matches before.”

“Yes, I’m coming Dora,” the girl yelled, offering one last apologetic look at Tilly before rushing off after who Tilly assumed must have been her sister.

“Wow!”

Tilly turned to observe the twins standing amused behind her.

“Was half expecting her to shout until the poor girl cried, right Fred?” George said through a smirk.

“Has our girl gone soft Georgie?” Fred asked in mock curiosity.

“Shut your mouths, it’s too early for me to be mean to everyone that wrongs me. But I can make an exception for you two if you continue this conversation,” Tilly retorted. She waved a hand to indicate her wish for them to forget it.

The twins just adopted their identical maniacal grins, before shrugging and continuing on the path back to the tents. Tilly tried to ignore the tingling feeling in her hand, the one the girl had helped her up with, she reasoned that it must’ve gotten scraped when she’d fallen.

+++

Then evening came and everyone went and bought souvenirs for the match from the various stalls and salesmen popping up around the camp. Tilly insisted on buying the twins dancing shamrock hats given that all their gold had been betted and was in the possession of Ludo Bagman. Harry then threw her a pair of omnioculars telling her it would help her watch the game. The group made their way to the stadium.

Climbing the stairs as far up as they could go until they found their seats located in a box at the top of the stadium. Introductions were made, including Cornelius Fudge himself dragging Harry out of his seat to introduce him to a very confused Bulgarian minister of magic, who as soon as he saw Harry’s scar began babbling excitedly. Tilly just sat between Hermione and George and tried not to listen to Mr Crouch’s house elf Winky’s terrified whimpers as she rocked back and forth due to her fear of heights.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes when Lucius Malfoy strode in in all his pompous glory followed by his sour faced wife Narcissa and his son Draco. Ron muttered a curse when Lucius’ eyes skimmed over Hermione in a less than approving manner as if her very presence here offended him. Tilly almost made a comment towards the Malfoy’s before remembering she was here as a guest amongst very important wizards and didn’t want to embarrass Mr Weasley.

As the game was set to commence Ludo made the introductions.

“Ladies and Gentlemen. Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!” His voice boomed throughout the stadium thanks to the wand pointed at his throat to amplify it.

Flags waved, fans screamed and both national anthems were being chanted in one big mess of noise and excitement.

“And now without further ado, allow me to introduce … the Bulgarian Team Mascots!!”

Everyone leaned forward eagerly to see what the Bulgarians had brought with them. And then a mixture of emotions became apparent from the crowd. An annoyed sort of huff went up, which appeared to come predominantly from the women, but it was immediately overshadowed by the cacophony of cheers, whoops and hollers coming from most men in the stadium.

While Hermione and Ginny sat back unimpressed, Tilly found herself leaning forward with the boys in order to get a better look. However, as soon as her brother began to start trying to climb over the side of the box - she shook her head to clear it and yanked him back down into his seat.

Soon the match was underway, 14 bright blurs racing around the pitch, emerald and scarlet in colour. They duck and wove amongst each other, nearly colliding with one another way too many times. Tilly wasn’t a huge quidditch fan and she didn’t play it herself, leaving her brother to be the athlete of the family. However, she had to admit it was the quickest and most exciting match she’d ever seen and (not that she’d ever tell her brother or the twins this) it frankly put the school quidditch to shame.

It wasn’t until Ireland had a 3 goal lead that Bulgaria got their first goal. Mr Weasley shouted for the boys to cover their ears as the Veela started dancing in celebration and Tilly felt her mind cloud over slightly as their effect took hold of her once again. She was only faintly aware of Hermione eyeing her reaction with curiosity. Thankfully she was snapped out of it when a gasp from the crowd brought her attention to the two seekers plummeting to earth, head to head in an apparent race for the snitch. Until Krum pulled up at the last minute and the Irish seeker ploughed straight into the ground with a loud thud.

Not 15 minutes later there was another uproar as the Irish chaser Mullet was fouled. Ireland was awarded a penalty much to the chagrin of the Bulgarian supporters who were screaming abuse and the Veela who had yet again begun dancing furiously. Tilly was now understanding the appeal of the sport as she was becoming increasingly fascinated with the antics of the referee, the viciousness of the players and the feud between the Veela and the Leprechauns.

In the end Ireland took home the victory, despite Krum being the one to actually catch the snitch. The final score being Ireland:170 and Bulgaria:160. It had taken everyone a few minutes to work out what had actually happened given the fight between the leprechauns, veela and ministry wizards and the fact that the Irish seeker had managed to crash for a second time. Nevertheless, when the Irish realised they’d won … the noise was deafening.

+++

“Tilly! Get up now! We’ve got to get out of here.” Hermione’s voice jerked Tilly from her sleep.

Sleep ridden and confused, Tilly blinked trying to make sense of what was going on. Until she could make out screams, shouts and flashes of colour lighting up the outside of the tent. Immediately she was scrabbling out of bed to find a jumper to go over her thin nightshirt. Stuffing her feet into trainers and leaving her legs in just her pyjama shorts she followed the girls outside to the source of the commotion, and what she saw made her stomach turn. The muggle who had been organising their tents just the day before, accompanied by who she suspected to be his wife and children, were suspended in midair above a dark mass of people who were laughing and taunting the poor family.

Mr Weasley ordered the kids to go hide in the woods while he, Bill, Charlie and Percy ran off to go assist the ministry. Tilly kept close by her brother until a surge of terrified people swept them all up on the way to the woods and she found herself separated from Harry and the rest. When the crowd cleared no one she recognised could be seen. Deciding to keep walking so as to catch up to everyone else she continued down the path. Passing various clumps of panicking wizards and witches she finally came to a halt at the sound of a familiar drawl.

“Oh and if it isn’t the irrelevant Potter, lost your sad excuse for friends and pathetic brother have we?” Draco sneered in his best attempt at looking intimidating. He appeared to be nonchalantly leaning against a tree observing the chaos with awe.

“What’s up bleach boy, your hair is looking especially fluorescent in this lighting, did you recently have it redone or is that natural?” Tilly quipped pretending to examine the boy’s slicked back shock blonde hair for signs of a recent dye job. She smirked as he blushed slightly and ran a hand through his locks self consciously.

A muffled snort drew her attention to the figure behind Malfoy who appeared to be smothering their laughter in their own arm. The figure stood and stepped into the light to reveal herself as the girl Tilly had literally ran into that morning.

“She has a point Draco, your hair is becoming a rather shocking shade of platinum don’t you think.” She directed her gaze to Tilly and mock whispered “Don’t let him bother you he’s not nearly as intelligent as he likes to let on.”

“I think that’s quite enough from you cousin”, Malfoy snarled while yanking back the girl, who frankly seemed irked at the idea of him touching her. “I know you’ve had the misfortune of being raised by mudbloods and blood traitors, but I’d have hoped you’d hold better standards than affiliations with Potters.”

A flash of anger passed over the girl’s face. She turned, and since she was as tall as the boy she had no trouble getting in his face, to quietly but firmly state, “I’ll be civil with you _cousin_ , for the sake of saving face ... but talk about them like that again and your precious _mummy_ will never find your body.” Shoving him ever so slightly so that his back hit the tree behind. If possible Draco had gone a few shades paler, he looked down and mumbled something that could have possibly been an apology.

She turned to face Tilly, who had been silently watching the exchange with fascination at seeing someone who seemed to intimidate the snarky Slytherin boy. Hopping down from the tree roots she’d been perched on and addressing Tilly she spoke kindly, “If you’re looking for the dark haired boy with the glasses he went that way with his two friends.” She seemed embarrassed to have been seen interacting with Malfoy in that way and Tilly suspected she hardly ever got that riled.

“Thank you,” Tilly answered. She nodded at the girl and her gaze followed the outstretched hand to take note of the direction she was being sent.

“Of course,” she mumbled. And then seemed to retract within herself as a particularly loud scream sounded from one of the muggles that was being tormented, a look passed over her eyes that Tilly couldn’t quite decipher. She winced before turning and walking back into the cover of the trees to sit by the tree roots with Malfoy.

To keep walking sounded like the logical option, however when Tilly found herself in a deserted section of the forest she decided she should’ve taken her chances staying with someone she knew, even if that someone was Malfoy and his mysterious cousin. She was considering turning back when a hissing voice shouted out.

“MORSMORDRE!”

Tilly whipped around to the source of the noise to see a figure slinking in the shadows clad in black. Then her gaze was pulled upwards at the green glowing skull which was glistening in the air. A snake slithered out of its mouth, wrapping itself around the skull and hissing menacingly.

Screams rose up from the campsite which Tilly assumed was the reaction to the odd spell she had just witnessed.

“TILLY!”

All of a sudden her brother was colliding with her and pulling her into a crushing hug. Ron and Hermione followed soon after and they all stood nervously in the clearing, while Hermione insisted they move on.

“We were worried when we got separated, I thought you’d gone up ahead. Are you okay?” Her brother spoke, while assessing her for any injury.

In that next moment a dozen popping noises sounded as twenty wizards appeared from thin air surrounding the four in a circle with their wants pointed directly at them. Harry immediately pulled his sister to the ground yelling ‘ _DUCK_!’ Just in time as twenty stunning spells were immediately fired overhead, Tilly could feel the air roll over them from the force of the magic.

Not long later she had Barty Crouch poking his wand in her face demanding to know if she’d summoned the hideous skull image. After Mr Weasley and a few of the ministry wizards had admonished him for asking if the Potters of all people had been the one to cast the mark in the sky, he seemed to calm only slightly.

Amos Diggory gave a shout from off to the side as he returned holding the unconscious body of Mr Crouch’s house elf Winky. Accusations were thrown about ranging from blaming the elf to blaming Harry who’s wand Winky had found in the woods. Tilly couldn’t help but look back up to the mark in the sky, but as she did a strange feeling overtook her body. A feeling of overwhelming sadness struck her, strange as nothing had directly happened that would cause her to feel those emotions so suddenly. It was almost as if those feelings didn’t belong with her.

Despite how odd it felt it was not unusual, she had found herself numerous times experiencing feelings that couldn’t possibly be her own. She’d never told anyone about it not having seen it as a big deal, but she was beginning to suspect she was slightly different as this was not something that had ever been mentioned in school before. Never had she felt it so surely and powerfully before, it had always been a fleeting flash of emotion. Sometimes she could even half convince herself she’d imagined it, but not this time.

As soon as it happened it was over however and before she knew it Mr Weasley was corralling them back towards the tents. Tilly had missed the rest of the conversation but couldn’t bring herself to care. She went to bed feeling numb but with her mind reeling. Strangely enough though the last thought on her mind wasn’t about dark wizards and glowing skulls, it was the realisation she’d never actually gotten the name of the girl in the woods.


	3. Ferrets and Spiders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry is a fluffy boi. Peeves is a lad. Malfoy is a ferret. Ron is a loudmouth.

Two days later found the four friends back on the train to Hogwarts. They had a compartment to themselves, and while Hermione and Harry were discussing the repercussions and significance of Harry’s scar hurting him, Ron was embarking on a personal mission to see how many sweets he could fit in his mouth at once. Tilly was sat quietly in the corner of the compartment, her cat Henry purring contently as he lay in her lap and a copy of 5th year potion-making open before her.

I guess you could say she was a bit of a potions prodigy, she didn’t like to brag (well actually she did because outshining her brother at something was a rare opportunity, one that she had learned to revel in since they didn't present themselves often) but she can easily run rings around even Hermione in class. In the end Snape had to give her an OWL level potions book just so she’d stop asking him questions. For some reason he doesn't hate her as much as he hates her brother and every other Gryffindor, but he still has a really low tolerance for people talking to him. So the book was a compromise.

Tilly bit back a chuckle as Ron began to cough, he was attempting to talk despite the sheer amount of food he was currently holding in his mouth and his eyes were starting to bug out. Hermione cast him a vaguely disgusted look and returned her gaze to Harry as she reprimanded him for not telling them sooner about his scar problems.

Henry let out a yawn and snuggled closer to her so as to steal her warmth for himself. Whereas Hagrid had gotten Harry Hedwig as a present on their first trip to Diagon Alley, Tilly had immediately fallen in love with the gorgeous blue-grey Maine Coon kitten she had seen lounging in the pet shop window. He was now a fully grown fluff ball who loved nothing more than to snuggle on his mistress’ lap like he did when he was a baby. She had attempted to stop him from clambering on her due to how large he’d grown - but he’d just yowl until she allowed him to stay put. His large pointed ears and inquisitive amber eyes sometimes gave him the appearance and regality of a much larger jungle cat. He was a very proud animal and hadn’t liked Ron ever since the Scabbers/Wormtail incident last year when Ron had referred to him and Crookshanks as “mangy cats”, because he was far from it - he was stunning and knew it.

The first summer she’d brought him home Uncle Vernon had thrown an absolute fit. She assured him that all cats bought in the Wizarding world were bred to be hypoallergenic and that he wouldn’t shed. She would buy his food herself and that as long as he could get outside on his own they wouldn’t even need to interact with him. In the end she had spun a lie saying that if any Wizarding child got rid of their animal then the ‘wizard police’ would come knocking because it is illegal not to have one. So Uncle Vernon had given in out of the ‘goodness of his heart’, but she suspected the threat of fully grown wizards knocking at his door again had scared him more than he liked to admit.

When the train finally came to a halt at the station the rain was lashing down heavily. Tilly was certain the black lake would be overflown by the morning. However, the poor bedraggled first years still had to cross the lake in the boats like she had done 3 years ago, and Tilly certainly did not envy them. The Entrance Hall was torch lit, heaving with students and currently occupying -

“ARGH” Ron exclaimed as a water balloon was dropped straight onto his head, drenching his hair completely

\- Peeves. The Poltergeist in the bowtie was cackling with glee twenty feet above the students as he meticulously aimed water balloons at the now screaming students. As Tilly had looked up to observe the cause of Ron’s current state, a balloon caught her straight in the face. She staggered back, spluttering and coughing when the water went down her throat, rubbing at her eyes to ease the stinging.

“PEEVES YOU LITTLE SHIT,” she yelled. Fury clouding her voice due to the fact she had managed to stay relatively dry when approaching the castle and was now resembling a drowned rat

She immediately went for her wand, intending to hex the pest straight out of the air. Yet before she could even think of a spell nasty enough for him, Professor McGonagall came storming into the entrance hall barking at Peeves to stop, managing to slip on the wet floor and practically taking Hermione down with her. Despite the obvious dilemma of being soaked through and having her brother have to manhandle her into the hall to prevent her from sending a jinx at the cackling menace, Tilly had to admit she had missed the oddities that came with attending Hogwarts.

+++

The first day of classes started off reasonably normal. The new timetables had been distributed and Tilly skim read to see who she would be sharing classes with for that year; Herbology with the Hufflepuffs; Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins; Defence against the dark arts with the Ravenclaws. Seemed okay enough, although she could’ve done without any interactions with Draco Malfoy. It was vile enough watching Snape favouring him in potions; She didn’t need him sneering over Hagrid’s teaching as well.

So it was particularly enjoyable when a whirlwind of events led to Malfoy been turned into a quivering white ferret, even more satisfying watching Professor Moody throw him up and down in the air like a child with a rag doll. Professor Moody was the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, he had made his grand entrance at the welcome dinner which included saving everyone from the ceiling malfunction that had occurred part way through the feast. His appearance is what most would call frightening. His face appeared to be one big scar with scarcely a patch of un-marred skin in sight. He walked with a limp and a dull thud every other step due to his metal prosthetic leg. But perhaps most eerily of all was the electric blue false eye that whizzed around in its socket and would fix you with a glare so piercing you could almost feel it.

Draco had attacked Harry from behind, after her brother had retorted with a dig at Malfoy’s mother in response to the Slytherin’s impertinence towards Mrs Weasley. Moody had not appreciated the cowardly response displayed by Draco and had decided to take action. Tilly and Hermione still had a firm grip on the back of Ron’s robes who had looked like he might’ve tackled Malfoy to the ground.

A quiet exasperated huff sounded from behind Tilly, she turned and found herself staring up at the sweet face of the girl she had met at the World Cup. She was wearing robes lined with blue and a blue and bronze tie marking her as from Ravenclaw house. This struck Tilly as surprising as she had assumed that anyone with blood relation to a Malfoy would be in Slytherin for sure. Then again the girl didn’t strike her as the type of witch to belong in Slytherin, she vaguely remembered her severe reaction to Malfoy’s slurs against muggle born wizards and how she had talked kindly to her in the woods. Very little Slytherins would ever consider treating a Potter with anything close to kindness.

“I mean I suspect he deserved it, but what on earth is that man doing with him,” the girl remarked her eyes darting up and down as she followed the ferret's quick movements too and from the ground where it was being bounced repeatedly like a ball.

Tilly had now let go of Ron and turned her full attention to the girl who still remained nameless in her mind. “He got in a small argument with my friends, then shot a spell at my brother once he turned away. Apparently the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor doesn’t take too kindly to those that curse others behind their backs.”

A grin crept its way onto the girl’s face causing her eyes to sparkle and small dimples to appear on her cheeks. “I think that might be a bit of an understatement,” she murmured. Although in a tone that suggested she was more amused by the events than disapproving of the execution of it.

Tilly couldn’t help but smile and laugh slightly at the hilarity of the situation. She liked that the girl seemed cheerful, in their previous encounters she had been either too apologetic or too despondent to smile like that.

McGonagall had now arrived at the scene to reprimand Moody for his use of magic on a student. She made quick work of turning a now completely bedraggled and traumatised Malfoy back into a human and then dismissed the crowd which had congregated to witness the display. When Tilly turned back to finally ask the girl her name so she didn’t have to keep referring to her as ‘woods girl’ in her head she was rather put out to see the girl was absent from her side and must’ve slipped away with the crowd when Tilly wasn’t looking.

Now Tilly would never pride herself on being the most social of beings. She had her few close friends; She tolerated her twin as one of them seeing as they only had each other growing up in the Dursley hell house; And she wasn’t the best people person due to her tendency to be stand-offish with those she didn’t know.

Also she had a bad habit of finding people annoying for the slightest of reasons and then immediately disregarding them as someone to befriend. She was once walking with a friendly Hufflepuff girl, when the girl had accidentally stepped on the back of her shoe and within a split second that girl had become dead to her. Most saw it as petty, but Tilly liked to think of it as natural selection.

So one would expect that disappearing in the middle of a conversation would automatically put ‘Woods girl’ straight onto her dead list. However, whether it was her stubborn nature surfacing or her reluctance to allow this girl to ghost her (she didn’t get ghosted, she ghosted people), Tilly decided that she would at least get to know the girl’s name. Even if it was only so she could properly berate her for leaving so abruptly without so much as a goodbye.

+++

It wasn’t until Thursday that Tilly was presented with the opportunity to see the Ravenclaw again, but it wasn’t as if she’d been looking for her (she had), or like she cared that much (she did). Still, when Thursday rolled around and they had their first lesson with Mad Eye Moody, Tilly was surprised to see a mess of dark curls already occupying a seat at the far side of the classroom. Sitting with Hermione at the front while Ron and Harry claimed the desk behind them, she tried not to glance in the direction of the girl, who had her head bent and seemed to be completely absorbed in a thick leather bound book.

Class had begun and Tilly was mildly surprised by how aggressive Moody was when he taught, or when he spoke in general. Every word seemed to be a biting remark at how they needed to be prepared for the real world, against dark wizards and they needed to have ‘CONSTANT VIGILANCE’ as he put it. Evidently a life that had been dedicated to chasing dark wizards had put Moody on a paranoia filled path. One where he seemed to see dark wizards around ever corner.

“So. Can anyone tell me which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?”

A few hands hesitantly raised but interestingly enough it was Ron who was chosen to answer.

“Er … my dad told me about one … th-the Imperious curse I think?”

“Yes your father would know about that wouldn’t he, it gave the ministry quite a bit of grief a few years back. Let me show you why.”

Moody reached into the jar on his desk and removed the spider from it. Muttering a harsh ‘Imperio’ he made the spider perform all sorts of tricks; It swung from a rope made of its own silk thread like a trapeze artist; It executed perfect cartwheels; It even performed a short tap dance much to the amusement of the class.

Professor Moody however didn’t seem to find it so funny. He went on to explain how many wizards and witches had claimed to only be doing work for ‘You know who’ because they were under the control of the curse. Creating a mess for the ministry trying to decipher who was lying and who was telling the truth.

“Anyone know another?” Moody questioned, his false eye whirling around in its socket as he observed the class carefully.

Hermione’s lightning quick hand shot up, very nearly catching Tilly in the face, she always had to mentally reprimand herself for sitting so close to Hermione given how enthusiastic she can get in class. However another hand went up belonging to Neville, the boy hardly ever spoke up in any class apart from Herbology and seemed just as surprised at himself as the class was at his offering of an answer.

“The cruciatus curse,” he offered timidly, but with an underlying determination to his voice.

Moody studied Neville for a moment before he asked, much more calmly that he had all lesson, “Your name is Longbottom correct?”

Neville nodded looking confused but Moody offered nothing else in the way of questions towards him. Instead he turned back to the spider and, after enlarging it to twice the size of a Tarantula, he pointed his wand and firmly growled “Crucio!”

The effect was instantaneous, the spider began to writhe in absolute agony. Legs bent into its body, a faint high pitched noise could be heard - as if the spider was trying to scream with a voice it didn’t possess. Moody didn’t relent however, his wand stayed hovered over the spider who was beginning to jerk in a manic fashion. That was until a trembling voice rose up from the other side of the class.

“Stop it, please STOP IT!”

The Ravenclaw girl was white as a sheet; She appeared to be trembling on the spot. However her gaze wasn’t focused on the spider, who had now been allowed to relax, but on Neville. The poor boy’s eyes were wide, terrified, his fists were clenched on top of the desk, knuckles white from the strain.

Moody narrowed his eyes at the girl. Scooping up the spider, he moved carefully through the desks until he stopped in front of her's. The spider in his hands was calm despite what it had endured just moments before. He placed the spider on her desk and she eyed it sympathetically.

“And you. Miss …. ?” Moody questioned, searching for her name. His magic eye was still focused on Neville who was starting to calm down.

The girl cast a glance at Neville almost wincing as she answered in a small voice. “Lestrange.”

The blue eye snapped to her as Moody seemed to see her for the first time. He regarded her for a moment before nodding, like he’d just made a connection in his head he’d failed to realise beforehand.

“Well Miss Lestrange can you tell us what the third Unforgivable Curse is?”

She looked like she was considering answering it, but then thought better as the weight of Moody’s stare become too much for her.

“No,” she mumbled. Her eyes cast down in something akin to submission.

Hermione, who Tilly suspected felt as if it was her turn, piped up.

“Avada Kedavra,” she shakily offered.

Moody’s mouth twisted into a gnarled version of a smile when he heard Hermione’s answer.

“AVADA KEDAVRA!” he roared. Pointing his wand at the spider, a flash of green light shot forwards and the spider crumpled on the Ravenclaw girl’s desk. Dead! She scrambled back in horror and multiple girls around the room were stifling cries of shock.

“The Killing curse,” Moody continued as if nothing had happened. “Not the nicest, and there’s no blocking it. In fact there is only one person known to have survived it. And he is sitting right in front of me.”

The class tracked Moody’s gaze to see Harry sitting at his desk looking utterly bewildered. Tilly however was staring at the body of the spider - thinking. The green light had seemed familiar to her. It made sense that she must have witnessed Voldemort use the curse on Harry when they were babies. That didn’t explain though the sudden rush of emotions that had flown through her when the light had flashed not moments ago. Terror, desperation, but most of all (almost overwhelmingly so) was the determination she felt, as if it was a liquid coursing through her body. Not for the first time she wondered where these emotions stemmed from, and yet again she suspected that they didn’t belong with her.

After class had been dismissed the 4 friends were discussing the events of the class. Neville was the main point of concern for Tilly until Hermione said something unexpected.

“Yes but did you see Helena’s face, I thought she might be sick,” She stated sympathetically.

“Who?” Harry questioned.

“The girl who shouted at Moody,” Hermione replied. “Helena Lestrange.”

Tilly perked up at that. Helena Lestrange. At least now she finally had a name for the girl in the woods.

“You know her?” She questioned.

“No, not really. She’s in Ravenclaw so we haven’t had many classes with her since we started here. She’s usually so quiet anyway, I don’t blame you for not noticing her when we did. I’ve seen her in the library quite a few times. She’s always in the magical creature section and Madam Pince asked her to help me find a book there,” she answered matter-o-factly.

“Well I don’t feel bad for her, I don’t even know how she’s in Ravenclaw. I mean do you know who her family is. I was betting on Slytherin for sure when she was sorted,” Ron sneered in a way that Tilly had grown to not like from the boy.

Hermione whipped round to face him, a look of shock on her face at his callous attitude towards a student that was clearly in distress.

“Ron how can you even say that?” her voice had risen a few decibels as her disbelief for her friends attitude turned to anger.

“Who are her parents?” Harry asked. He was looking steadily more confused by the conversation.

“Bellatrix and Rudolphus Lestrange. Apparently when ‘You know who’ was in power they were his most devoted followers, they are in Azkaban now mind you. But from what I’ve heard they are absolutely batshit, especially Bellatrix,” Ron recounted what he’d most likely picked up from wizarding gossip and from his brothers at home.

A small sniffle and a hurried ‘excuse me’ drew Tilly’s attention to the figure trying to rush past them. Helena was huddling her books close, head bent to try and mask the tears forming in her eyes. She darted around them and made her way down the staircase, evidently just having heard their conversation. Tilly stared after her, vaguely aware of Hermione berating Ron for his words, and thought that any chance of a friendship with the Ravenclaw had surely crumbled before her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tilly: I met this girl in the woods and not to be dramatic but I need to know everything about her.
> 
> Hermione: Why?
> 
> Tilly: For... Science?


	4. Foreign Schools and Goblets filled with fire

It had been a particularly gruelling potions lesson today, for everyone else that was - not her. Tilly had had to forcibly hold back laughter when Snape had informed the class that he would be poisoning one of them before Christmas to assess whether they had been working well enough of their antidotes (Ron and Harry’s looks of disbelief had been comical). Although she did feel bad for Neville who had positively wilted when Snape had cast him a disdainful look, no doubt realising who the Potions master would be most likely to poison.

He had been requesting that they research antidotes as homework. She had however, over the summer (much to the chagrin of Uncle Vernon who hated seeing their school books in his house), already read up on antidotes. She had been reading from a 5th year potions book that she had begged Snape to lend her at the end of her 3rd year. So she was pretty confident in her knowledge to protect her from some of the more simple poisons that the Professor might try and throw at them. In her spare time she was enjoying researching more complicated poisons and how best to tackle their antidotes. Becoming fully fascinated with the concept of a Bezoar, a stone from the stomach of a goat which could cure all poisons, she had begun using her time in class to experiment with ideas for a potion that would work in the same way - against any and all poisons.

The Gryffindors were making their way towards the Entrance Hall when they noticed a large crowd forming front of the doors. Everyone seemed to be congregating to read a sign posted on the door and as soon as Tilly got a look at it she understood why. It had been announced during the feast on the first night back that the school would be holding the Triwizard tournament. An inter-school competition involving the three largest European schools of magic: Beauxbatons, Durmstrang and Hogwarts. The sign on the door read..

_TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT_

_The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 6 o’clock on Friday 30th of October. Lessons will end half an hour early. Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast._

This caused a flurry of excitement as it marked a week until the other schools would arrive. Tilly did wonder how these schools would differ from their own, not really knowing as much about foreign magical institutions as Hermione did. She was currently babbling on about how they liked to keep their location and magic a secret from everyone else and that Durmstrang had a very Dark Arts oriented syllabus. Tilly couldn’t wait to see if these schools lived up to all that was being said about them

+++

A week later the students were corralled to the front steps to greet the other schools. McGonagall was fussing over the Gryffindors like a mother hen, snapping at Ron to straighten his hat and attempting to keep attention away from Neville who had melted his 7th cauldron in potions that day and was sporting a brand new hole in his robes where the potion had gone right through.

Tilly was trying to pretend she couldn’t hear Hermione who was enthusiastically trying to push a SPEW badge in her direction despite Tilly’s reassurance that she was already wearing 3 (she had wanted to support her friend and had been declared ‘Marketing and Promotions Officer’ by Hermione earlier that month).

Ron and Harry had begun speculating how the other schools would arrive. Ideas ranging from train to broomsticks to Portkeys were shut down the minute the Carriage was spotted. A huge black shape, the size of a large house was hurtling at great speed over the top of the Forbidden Forest. It was being pulled by a dozen winged horses, and as they landed Tilly could see they were enormous, hooves the size of dinner plates and fiery red eyes.

The doors to the carriage were thrown open and the largest woman that Tilly had ever seen in her life stepped out. She had olive skin, thick sleek black hair cut to a bob at the base of her neck and was dressed head to toe in black satin. She stepped forwards to greet Dumbledore who didn’t even have to bend to kiss her outstretched hand.

Soon she was introduced as Madame Maxine, and as she gestured behind her to the carriage Tilly could see that a dozen boys and girls all wearing robes made of fine silk had emerged from it. They were eying the castle in apprehension and due to their thin attire were shivering. They were led inside to warm up after Madame Maxine had been assured that Hagrid was well up to the task of taking care of the enormous winged horses.

A few minutes passed and the students began to get restless again waiting for the other school to make their appearance. Until a shout brought Tilly’s attention to the lake. A rippling was starting to form at the centre of the body of water, a mast rose up from the ripple and what followed was an entire ship. Dim misty lights shining from its portholes gave it a very eerie look, water ran down the sides as a sail was snapped into place featuring what must be the school’s symbol.

When the occupants disembarked, they were sporting large furs that gave them very bulky appearances. A man in sleek furs leading the students greeted Dumbledore familiarly, grasping one of his hands in both of his own and smiling with yellow teeth. Professor Karkaroff, he was revealed to be named.

He looked behind him and grasped one of his students by the shoulder, seemingly concerned about his wellbeing and suggesting to the Hogwarts headmaster that they should go inside now that they had arrived.

If Tilly hadn’t heard Ron’s ridiculous squeals or the mutters and gasps of the students, she probably wouldn’t have looked twice at the boy in questions. However after a second look recognition bloomed within her, as she associated the thick black eyebrows and curved nose with the seeker she had seen dominate at the World Cup not 2 months previously - Viktor Krum.

+++

While Ron was continuing to have his emotional breakdown over Krum’s presence at the school, and Hermione was looking at him with exasperation as if she failed to understand the fuss, Tilly was examining the Beauxbatons. They had chosen to be seated at the Ravenclaw table and as she was looking over to see whether they’d stopped shivering yet, she noticed that they’d seated themselves right beside Helena. Who had been sitting at the end of the table seemingly uninterested with the events unfolding.

Tilly could see she was actually reading a book under the table, which, while puzzling, amused Tilly at the idea that the most exciting event in Hogwarts history had failed to capture the attention of every student. Least of all the quiet Ravenclaw who was always buried in one kind of thick old leather book or another. She seemed to only notice the foreign school had sat down next to her when one of the French students let out a particularly large shudder at the cold they felt due to their silk robes.

Helena perked her head up and addressed the girl in what Tilly was fascinated to hear was French. The Beauxbatons girl, though at first stunned, seemed jovial at the idea that one of these ‘ogwarts’ students knew French. She was quite tall, Tilly could see. Most likely having a few inches on Helena if they were both standing. Her features were soft, and her complexion brown. She had dark eyes, and darker eyebrows with a small nose. The girl's hair, dark at the roots and highlighted a honey brown towards the ends, was styled in beautiful loose coils. They conversed lightly for a few moments and when the French girl started nodding thankfully Helena pulled out her wand and began muttering while moving it in slow clockwise circles. Tilly recognised it as a warming charm and watched as the French student became more relaxed and finally stopped shivering.

She turned back to talk to her friends but not before thanking Helena kindly and sporting a bigger smile than Tilly had seen from a single french student so far. Helena returned to her book as if nothing had happened, ignoring the looks of envy from a group of Ravenclaw boys further up the table.

When everyone had had their fill of the feast Dumbledore stepped up to give a round of announcements involving the upcoming tournament. During which they brought forth how they were actually going to choose the champion of each school. The Goblet of Fire. A large roughly cut wooden cup, filled with blue fire. The Headmaster went on to explain how you need only put your name on a parchment and drop it into the cup. It would then choose the champions, one from each school. An age line would be put around the Goblet to ensure no one under the age of 17 could get to it, this made the Weasley twins perk up as they had already begun forming a plan to enter the tournament despite being too young.

Over the course of the next day, the Goblet saw numerous students entering in their names, every single student from both of the foreign schools obviously entered (that being the key reason they were even here). So it was more intriguing to see who had entered from Hogwarts. All the Hufflepuffs were raving about Cedric Diggory who was rumoured to be entering, but the main source of excitement among the Gryffindors came from Angelina Johnson, the tall black girl played chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team and was well liked throughout the house. Who could have guessed that in all this excitement everything could have gone to shit so quickly.

+++

All three schools were gathered in the great hall, the time had come for the choosing of the champions. With dinner finished (hardly anyone had been bothered with eating they were too filled with anticipation for what was to come), the hall fell silent. Dumbledore swept up to where the Goblet of Fire stood and, giving a great arcing wave of his wand, extinguished all light in the room apart from the Goblet’s blue fire which danced and flickered.

Every eye was glued to the Goblet awaiting to see how it would reveal its decision. And a few jumped in fright when the fire turned red and out shot a charred piece of parchment. Dumbledore caught it, read it and proclaimed the champion of Durmstrang to be … Viktor Krum. This happened twice more, Fleur Delacour was made the Beauxbatons champion, and Cedric Diggory (much to the sheer delight of the Hufflepuffs and dismay of the Gryffindors) was made the Hogwarts champion. When each champion had been chosen they had walked to Dumbledore at the front and had been instructed to walk past the staff table and into the adjoining chamber.

Just as Dumbledore was saying his final congratulations and asking for the students who hadn’t been picked to support their champions as best they could (not likely because two Beauxbatons girls had burst into tears when it had been revealed Fleur had been chosen). The Goblet once again went a crimson colour and out shot a piece of parchment. Everyone stared at Dumbledore, not a word was spoken, until he cleared his throat and uttered -

“Potter.”

The world went still, well at least for Tilly it did. The first thought through her head was … which Potter? Every single head in the room had turned to stare at where they were sitting. She gave her brother a flabbergasted look, her eyes asking the question she couldn’t bring herself to say out loud. Did you do this? Dumbledore’s gaze was probably the most heavy of them all, if you didn’t count the way Ron was glaring at the back of Harry’s head with more animosity than Tilly had ever seen from the boy. Professor McGonagall had jumped up from her seat and was whispering furiously in the Headmaster’s ear, Hagrid was shaking his head in denial and Madame Maxine and Karkaroff looked plain murderous.

At last Dumbledore broke the silence.

“Harry! Matilda! Up here if you please!” he called, louder, as if it was possible they hadn’t heard their name the first time.

Both of them? Tilly’s mind was reeling as she tried to comprehend what was happening.

“I didn’t put my name in it. You know I didn’t,” Harry was addressing Ron and Hermione now, who offered nothing in the way of reassurance. Everyone was just as stunned as each other.

Tilly decided she didn’t want to sit under everyones gaze any longer and shakily hopped up from her seat to make her way to the side chamber. Harry followed close behind.

She tried not to make eye contact with anyone on the way, but couldn’t help it when she passed the Ravenclaw table. Helena’s striking eyes bore into hers, it seems she’d finally managed to look up from her book. Tilly was expecting to see anger in her eyes, or confusion like everyone else seemed to be sending her, but all she saw was sorrow. It was somehow worse in Tilly’s opinion, receiving sympathy for something like this confirmed her theory that none of this would be easy for her.

Making her way to the chamber with her brother on her heels, and in classic twin fashion (once they were out of sight of the great hall), they turned to each other at the exact same moment and whisper shouted -

“What did you do?!”

“What did I do?” Harry recoiled “What makes you think I did this?”

“Oh I don’t know, how about the other night when you told me how amazing you thought it would be to win. And I saw how excited you were about Fred and George’s plan to trick the age line!” Tilly countered, refusing to allow herself to be blamed for this.

“What is going on? Do zey want us back in ze hall?” a voice questioned, French accent prominent.

The twins had walked into the chamber where the champions were waiting and Fleur had addressed them, she must have assumed they were there to deliver a message. All at once a flurry of activity occurred. A large group of people suddenly stormed into the chamber: Professor Dumbledore, Mr Crouch, Professor Mcgonagall, Professor Snape, Madame Maxine and Ludo Bagman. They all hurried towards the twins and Tilly felt a flurry of nervousness, this was a very formidable bunch of wizards and witches and she didn’t like that they were all most likely furious with the pair of them.

Tilly could already feel the emotional hostility rising. This happens sometimes when she is among a large group of people, whatever it was inside her that was susceptible to others emotions clearly gets overwhelmed and she is left with a thrumming in her chest born out of the main feelings that surround her. Which right now were anger and confusion.

“HARRY,” Dumbledore’s voice could be heard first. “Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?”

“No,” Harry answered hurriedly but firmly.

“Did you ask an older student to do it for you?”

“NO,” Harry said insistently.

“Matilda?” Dumbledore turned to address her, evidently posing the same questions.

“No Professor,” Tilly answered, she caught the eye of Professor Karkaroff who looked absolutely livid and was shaking his head, she refused to look away though and glared back defiantly as if daring him to accuse otherwise.

“Okay,” Dumbledore said, nodding. “Barty what are our options?”

Mr Crouch stepped forward, his face appearing out of the dark. He looked gaunt, the flickering fire that was lighting the room cast shadows across his face making it look almost like a skull.

“We must follow the rules, their name came out of the cup. Those whose name comes out of the cup has to compete, they are bound by a strict magical contract. And since the cup didn’t specify which Potter, they both have to compete,” he stated in his curt voice.

“But ‘Ogwarts cannot 'ave three Champions. It is most unjust,” Madame Maxine tried to reason, her hands on Fleur’s shoulders who was looking around in confusion not yet understanding what was happening.

“I agree with Madame Maxine this is disgraceful, allow us to enter in our students again, we should be allowed three Champions as well!” Professor Karkaroff snarled.

“Karkaroff the goblet has gone out, it won’t relight until the next Tournament, we can’t re-enter anyone,” Ludo Bagman tried in vain to reason with the furious headmaster.

“A tournament that Durmstrang will not be taking part in I assure you. I have half a mind to leave now,” Karkaroff bellowed.

“These are empty threats Karkaroff. Your student is entered, he can’t leave and neither can you,” Moody’s growling tone echoed through the chamber. He must’ve joined the group after everyone else. “Anyways there is no need to be mad at the kids, it is clear this wasn’t their doing. Only a very powerful wizard using a very powerful Confundus charm could’ve hoodwinked the cup into forgetting only three schools are entered. My guess is they entered the name Potter under a fourth school.”

“You seem to have given this great deal of thought Mad-eye,” Karkaroff sneered in an accusatory manner.

“And you seem to forget it was once my job to think how dark wizards think Igor,” Moody countered.

Professor McGonagall, who was now standing behind Tilly, grasped her shoulder in an almost protective manner.

“But surely you can’t mean to make them compete. Albus they’re just kids,” she pleaded.

“Rules are rules Minerva, now I believe there is the matter of the first task,” Dumbledore said with regret lacing his tone.

After Mr Crouch had informed them they wouldn’t know what the first task would be and that it is designed to test their bravery, everyone was dismissed and the twins went to head back to the Gryffindor common room.

“So that’s it we are just … Champions now?” Harry muttered as they walked up the marble staircase together.

“Oh I thought you’d be all over this, couldn’t play in the quidditch cup so at least you’ll get a chance at winning this! Don’t worry you’ll be the hero of Hogwarts by the end of the year,” Tilly remarked, she was still seething that she’d been thrown into this.

“You think I wanted this?” Harry asked her in disbelief.

Tilly honestly didn’t know what she thought, she was angry and she was taking it out on the closest thing - her brother. Saying things she barely meant.

“Tilly if anything this has you written all over it!” Harry shot back, anger had begun to creep into his voice, and Tilly could also sense it radiating from him. It seemed her powers worked best around highly emotional people. Her brother certainly deserved that title in that moment.

“Excuse me?” Tilly’s tone was low, dangerous.

“What you don’t think I know that you feel upstaged by me? I know its not easy for you but I didn’t ask to be like this. The centre of attention, the boy who lived. But this … this is perfect, this is your chance to get one over on me. Champion of Hogwarts and all that.” Harry sneered.

“You know Harry you might hold yourself to standards based on all the big bad actions you have accomplished over the last few years, but let us not forget who’s been there helping you with those. And this might seem strange to you but I don’t need to win a tournament to prove my own self worth!” Tilly was nearly shouting now. “You know what forget it, I’m not going to have this argument with you.”

With that she promptly turned on her heel, away from the common room, away from her brother and hopefully away from the tears that were threatening to spring up. She never cried, it made her face all puffy and so she usually refused to allow that to be an emotional outlet for herself. She could hear Harry scoffing behind her, most likely saying she was being childish.

She didn’t care, allowing her feet to take her somewhere … anywhere, that wasn’t the Gryffindor common room, she couldn’t face it right now.

+++

She found herself in the Astronomy tower. She somewhat enjoyed Astronomy, the stars were gorgeous and the formations fascinated her. She’d never be an astronomer, but still she could appreciate beauty when she saw it. So sitting, legs crossed and staring at the stars, Tilly tried to clear her mind.

She must have become a bit too relaxed however because she didn’t hear the footsteps approaching. The first thing that alerted her to another’s presence was the soft “Oh” that escaped the visitor’s mouth when they realised the tower was occupied.

Helena stood at the top of the Astronomy staircase, she seemed to be suffering an eternal battle. Trying to decide whether to approach and do whatever she came here to do, or to go and leave Tilly to wallow in peace. She shuffled her feet and eventually decided on voicing her concern.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know someone was up here, I can come back another time,” she went to turn and then stopped herself. “Are you alright?” she tentatively asked.

Tilly had hurriedly scrambled to her feet, trying to appear nonchalant and not like she was suffering from a severe case of feelings.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. It’s just … No I’m fine. What are you doing up here so late?” Tilly questioned hoping to deter the subject away from her emotional state.

Helena blushed, clearly embarrassed by her reason for being up in the astronomy tower, on her own so late at night. She produced a glass jar from behind her back and went on to mumble something about a ‘Glumbumble’.

“A what?” Tilly questioned.

“They are grey, furry and fly about. A bit like a bumblebee. But did you know their treacle can induce melancholy upon those that consume it,” Helena suddenly perked up, her face shining with enthusiasm. Reciting the facts as easily as Tilly could recite her own name. “Hagrid told me there might be some up here. I wanted to study them, see what they looked like up close.”

The smile faded from her face as she took in Tilly’s quiet regard of her. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I don’t mean to bore you with random insect facts, you obviously have bigger concerns than that.”

“No no, it’s fine,” Tilly reassured her. “So you like magical creatures huh, that’s pretty cool.”

Helena’s face morphed into an expression that made Tilly’s heart lurch. It seemed surprised and grateful, and Tilly suspected that Helena didn’t receive a lot of interest from others about her hobby.

“You think?” Her voice was hopeful.

“Yeah of course, is that what you are always reading about in those old leather books of yours?”

“Mostly. Recently I’ve actually been reading up on dragons. There’s more species than I thought and they are all so fascinating. But originally the magical creature books were so I could figure out how best to take care of Rodger.”

“Rodger?” Tilly questioned “Don’t tell me you have a pet dragon hidden in Ravenclaw tower.”

“No no nothing like that,” Helena insisted through a laugh. “Rodger is my Knarl, I’ve actually got him here right now.”

And without any hesitation Helena reached into the pocket of her blue hoodie and pulled out … a hedgehog? Or at least it looked like a hedgehog, what had she called it. A Knarl? His small black eyes stared deeply at Tilly, and she felt like she was under intense scrutiny in that moment. His quills quivered in sync with his nose as he sniffed the air, assessing his new surroundings. He was cute, Tilly would give him that, but she was more concerned as to why he was living in the Ravenclaw’s pocket.

“I know they aren’t a classic wizarding pet, but I tamed him when I was 10 from our garden and couldn’t bear to leave him at home when the time came for school. They grow attached to their owners you see and can get violent when left around anyone else for too long. But I got permission from Dumbledore so it was all alright, wasn’t it Rodge?” Helena explained, and as she addressed the Knarl Tilly was amused to see that Rodger craned his neck up to look at her when he heard his name.

“And he just likes to chill in your pocket?” Tilly was trying not to laugh, but she wasn’t even asking in a mean way, she was beginning to find that this girl was too pure for her to take the piss out of.

“We’re working on it, I think he’s developing some sort of Knarl depression, it’s leading to a serious case of separation anxiety,” her tone was so serious that Tilly completely missed the sparkle in her eyes.

“Knarl depression? There’s no way that’s a thing,” Tilly questioned in disbelief.

Helena’s face broke out into a dazzling grin and she laughed, “Nah I’m just messing with you, he likes the soft fabric and the smell of the washing powder I use on the jumper.”

Tilly shook her head in amusement. Her bad mood was clearing and she was starting to feel the exhaustion creeping in. Helena seemed to pick up on this and suggested that Tilly should go and get some sleep. The sleepy Gryffindor agreed, but just as she was about to leave she remembered something.

  
“Look the other day, with Ron. I don’t think he meant it, he’s not usually that … rude about others. I’m not trying to say what he said wasn’t hurtful but .. you shouldn’t have had to hear it and I’m sorry that you did,” she spoke carefully, assessing her words to ensure they had the desired effect.

“It’s fine, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before. And I don’t blame _you_ , so there’s no need for _you_ to apologise for your friends words,” Helena’s tone was understanding, but Tilly could sense hurt underlaying it as the girl seemed to be remembering Ron’s words.

Tilly nodded, her and Helena barely knew each other, it was impolite to pry into the feelings of those she’d just met.She knew she wouldn’t have appreciated it if Helena had demanded to know how she felt about the goblet incident after she’d brushed it off the first time, so she didn’t delve further. She went to leave but not before the Ravenclaw called after her -

“I know you seem like you have everything put together, and I’m sure you have. But these competitions are supposed to be tough. I get you have your friends and your brother but … if you need to talk I’m here. You shouldn’t have to go through any of this alone.”

Her tone was warm, caring even. For the first time since her name had been called by that dreaded goblet, Tilly felt a spark of hope. Like maybe this would all turn out alright.

“Thank you Helena, I might just have to take you up on that,” she said. Shooting one last smile at the dark curly haired girl she descended the staircase and began making her way back to the Gryffindor common room. Making sure to traverse carefully, not wanting to get caught by that creep Filch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have such a fierce mental image of Helena being told to empty her pockets in class, and she just whips out a whole hedgehog. It just really adds to her character in my opinion.


	5. Wands, Rumours and Dragons

The next few days were not fun - at all. Ron was mad at Harry and by extension Tilly. Apparently he thought they’d conspired together to get themselves entered. Harry and Tilly were still not talking. The morning after their argument Tilly had thought about trying to clear the air, but when she went to approach him she was met with cheers and applause from the Weasley twins. They hadn’t seen her last night when they’d been celebrating and were dying to know how she’d managed to pull it off. Harry had just shot her a glare and walked off to go eat his breakfast.

Hermione was the only common ground between Harry, Ron and Tilly. After assuring Tilly that she believed that the twins hadn’t put their name in, she’d suggested that they needed to let Sirius know what was going on. Turns out Harry had already sent his own letter, so Tilly decided to write one herself. She hadn’t spoken to her godfather in quite a while.

_Dear Snuffles,_

_I don’t want you to panic, but the Goblet of Fire called out the name Potter at the choosing ceremony. Harry and I are both being entered as Champions, half the school is furious at us for upstaging the other Hogwarts champion - Cedric Diggory. And I got into a stupid fight over it all with Harry, he even accused me of putting our name in. Surely he knows I would never do that._

_I do hope all is well with you and that you and Buckbeak are staying safe and hidden._

_Lots of Love Tilly x_

Now usually when double potions rolled around Tilly was happy. But this lesson started out as nothing short of hellish. When the Gryffindors got to the dungeons they found the Slytherins already there. The Slytherins were playing their new favourite game - making fun of the Potters. Each one was sporting a badge which read, in luminous red letters:

_Support CEDRIC DIGGORY - the REAL Hogwarts Champion!_

Malfoy was especially smug wearing his, he stepped forward and pressed down on the badge which changed to form the words _POTTER STINKS._

Tilly watched as the Slytherins howled with laughter and, not one to take shit from them, stepped forward.

“Bit rich coming from you Parkinson,” she sneered at Pansy who was laughing the loudest out of the gaggle of Slytherin girls. “Last time I walked past you in the hallways I had to do a double take, the stench was so strong I couldn’t tell if it was you or a walking sack of Bubotuber pus.” 

Pansy’s face flashed crimson. Malfoy narrowed his eyes and turned to address Hermione.

“Want one Granger. I’ve got loads. But don’t touch my hand, now. I’ve just washed it, you see, don’t want a Mudblood sliming it up.”

Immediately Malfoy was looking down the end of Harry’s wand, her brother was fuming. His chest heaving and eyes livid as he stared down Draco. Who raised his own wand in response.

“Go on Potter,” he taunted, staring at Harry. “Moody’s not here to protect you now, let’s see if you’ve got the guts.”

The two stared at each other and at the exact same time shouted-

“Furnunculus!”

“Densaugeo!”

Harry’s curse caught Goyle straight in the face, ugly boils had immediately began popping up, while Malfoy’s hit Hermione. She clutched her mouth and stared at Tilly, eyes wide and terrified. Her teeth had began to grow and were fast approaching her bottom lip, they didn't seem to be stopping either.

Snape’s voice was very rarely comforting, least of all at that moment when he rounded to corner and demanded to know what was going on. He sent Goyle immediately to the hospital wing, but when he glanced at Hermione merely stated he couldn’t see a difference. At that she tore off, whimpers increasing in volume to sobs. Tilly made to go after her but was stopped by Snape’s demand that she stop right there and get in the classroom.

Meanwhile Harry and Ron had exploded, calling Snape things she wouldn’t have even thought to use as an insult. The potions master deducted 50 points from Gryffindor and gave both Harry and Ron detention.

Not 10 minutes into the lesson, Harry and Tilly were called away for ‘Champion business’ as Colin Creevey referred to when he came to collect them. They were led to a small classroom in which a space had been cleared out in the middle and three desks had been covered with a long length of velvet. The table held five chairs, one occupied by Ludo Bagman, the other by a witch Tilly had never seen wearing Magenta robes. Krum was looking moody in the corner, and Cedric and Fleur were chatting away by the fireplace.

When Ludo saw them approach he clapped his hands and informed them they were merely here for the wand weighing ceremony. In which their wands would be examined to ensure they are fully functional. The witch in the Magenta robes was introduced as Rita Skeeter, she revealed she would be writing a piece about the tournament for the Daily Prophet. She was looking at Harry like a lion might look at her prey and Tilly could tell she was itching to interview him.

Not one minute later Rita had grabbed Harry by the upper arm and swept him off to ‘have a little chat’ due to him being ‘the youngest champion’ which Tilly easily mentally translated into ‘the boy who lived’. She had to stifle a laugh at the bewildered look on Harry’s face as he was practically carried away. Cedric and Fleur then seemed to realise the twins had arrived. While Fleur shot her a distrustful look, Cedric offered her a smile and called.

“And how’s the second most important Potter doing today?”

Cedric was a nice person, Tilly knew that. They’d always gotten on well, Tilly had even gone so far as to congratulate him after beating her brother at Quidditch last year, joking that someone had finally put Harry in this place and he’d done a good job making sure her brothers ego didn’t get out of control. Harry had not been particularly pleased but it was all in classic sibling banter. Since then they’d been on fine terms and it seemed Cedric wasn’t particularly resentful towards her over the Goblet incident, a true Hufflepuff if she’d ever seen one.

She offered a chuckle and walked over replying with, “Bet you 10 galleons that the reporter will do a feature on the fabulous ‘Boy who lived’. Not to worry though Diggory I’m sure they’ll mention you. They might name drop you towards the end, I however will merely be known as the mysterious ‘Harry Potter’s twin sister’,” Tilly stated, playfulness coating her tone. Her hands gesturing as she spoke in an effort to emphasise the supposed glamour of it all.

Cedric barked out a laugh, which seemed to cause Fleur to relax a little more. The girl was beautiful, Tilly could clearly see that they closer she got. She was tall, taller than Tilly; Slim with angelic features and shiny silvery hair that fell to her waist. Right now the french girl’s sharp blue eyes were observing her, taking her in. Eventually a small hint of a smile crept across her features and her eyes began to warm slightly.

“And ‘oo are ze Potter girl yes? Matilda?” Fleur spoke, Tilly realised they hadn’t properly met yet.

“And you must be Fleur Delacour,” she held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. And Tilly is fine.”

“Ah tee-leee,” the girl repeated while delicately shaking the hand with a smile. “I shall remember zat.”

At that moment Dumbledore swept into the room. He seemed to acknowledge that Harry wasn’t present. He turned to Tilly.

“Matilda is your brother joining us?” he asked kindly.

“The reporter is asking him a few questions Professor. He’s in there,” Tilly replied while pointing to the door that Rita had dragged Harry through.

The headmaster returned a minute later with Harry who looked incredibly annoyed, and Rita who was tittering and seemed even more excited than before.

The Champions were sat before the velvet table. The five judges took their seats behind it, leaving Rita Skeeter to lean against the wall narrating quietly to her quill which was scribbling furiously on a long roll of parchment.

One by one the Champions were called up before the judges to have their wands examined by none other than Mr Ollivander. The wizened old wand-maker had entered the room and was beckoning Fleur to the front with a calm smile.

The wand was twirled around by his long fingers, proclaimed a ‘nine and a half inch rosewood wand with a veela hair as it’s core’. One of Fleur’s grandmother’s. Ollivander seemed pleased and produced a bunch of flowers from the end of it. Handing them to Fleur alongside her wand, he then moved on to Cedric. Cedric’s wand was handsome and impressive, much like its owner. Twelve and a quarter inches, made with ash wood and a unicorn hair core. Ollivander flourished it and sent silver smoke rings sailing across the room.

Next was Krum, he got up and sturdily strode over to the old wizard, all but shoving his wand at him. Out of the corner of her eye Tilly could see Harry frantically trying to clean up his wand with his robes. Once Ollivander made Krum’s wand (Ten and a quarter inches made with Hornbeam and Dragon heartstring. Apparently a Gregorovitch creation) fire live birds out of the end that soared out the open window, it was Harrys turn.

Ollivander seemed to light up when he saw Harry’s wand and Tilly mentally prepared herself for the gushing and admiration her twin was about to receive for his special wand. Harry’s wand contained a tail feather from a Phoenix, which is a rather rare core to posses in the first place. Her brother had practically used up the entire shop’s wand before finding his one and Ollivander had treated it like a happening of the highest order.

He then beckoned for Tilly to step forward, which she did albeit hesitantly. She really hoped that her wand was up to scratch. Although, she reasoned, if it wasn’t maybe they would pull her out of the tournament altogether. Maybe this would allow her to not walk headfirst into a definite death trap.

“Ah Miss Potter let me see,” Ollivander spoke softly, he held out a hand and she gently placed her wand in it.

“Okay … Oh my I do indeed remember this one!” Ollivander suddenly remarked.

“Ten and a half inches, made with pine. Very good for non verbal magic pinewood. As I am sure you recall,” he eyed her knowingly.

Tilly actually did recall, when she had first waved her wand she hadn’t had to utter a word and it was as if the wand already knew what she was thinking. She’d been looking around the wand shop in awe at first, but after watching her brother try every wand in the shop she had been getting impatient. When it was finally her turn she’d been rather annoyed at Harry who had been taking so long. So when she waved her wand a thick, red roll of ribbon had shot out of the end and had promptly smacked Harry in the face.

“And containing the hair from a Wampus Cat. Exceptionally powerful Wampus Cats, I only ever managed to procure a single hair from one and she very nearly took my eye out so she did,” the man looked wistful as if his near death experience was a fond memory. “So I only managed to make one wand from it.”

With a grand swish of his wrist he produced a flurry of blue butterflies which fluttered around Tilly’s head before making their way out of the window. He then announced that every wand was in perfect condition and he was happy with their performance.

Just as she thought they would be allowed to leave, the photographer ran forward to remind everyone of his presence there. The girl groaned internally at the thought of photos. It took a long time. Tilly wasn’t a sit and smile type of girl. She ended up in-between Cedric and Fleur, the latter the photographer kept trying to drag forward to be at the front. Madame Maxine was made to sit while everyone else stood due to her not being able to fit in the frame, and Krum skulked around at the back trying to blend into the shadows. Rita Skeeter had forcefully put Harry right at the front, insisting he was small and couldn’t be seen.

The individual photos didn’t go much better. Rita insisted on Harry having about a hundred retakes, and Tilly nearly punched the camera man after he made the mistake of suggesting she could smile a bit. She could see Cedric behind the camera man making silly gestures behind the man’s back and grinning, this brought a smirk to her face as she rolled her eyes. Surprisingly enough that was the shot where the camera man was finally satisfied and dismissed her. Thank Godric.

+++

The extract on the Triwizard Tournament was, as Tilly has expected, basically a highly exaggerated life story of Harry. His picture took up the entire front page of the paper, and Fleur, Krum and Cedric’s names were featured only fleetingly (spelled wrong). However the thing that surprised and angered Tilly the most was that she’d been mentioned. They chosen the photo of her rolling her eyes to someone (Cedric) off camera, which she had to admit she didn’t hate. At least she didn’t appear as surly as Krum. The photo wasn’t the problem though, it was the description.

_‘Matilda Potter, forever cast in the shadow of her celebrity twin has decided to step into the spotlight. Begging for an opportunity to make a name for herself away from her brother and win the tournament…’_

That was as far as she’d gotten before she’d growled with anger and hurled the paper across the common room, catching Neville in the back of the head who was sat nearby, nearly in tears over his potions homework.

She briefly glanced over at Harry, her twin was burning his own copy of the paper in the fire, a fairly placid look on his face but Tilly could tell he was spitting mad.

However they wasn’t the only ones affected by the awful story. Apparently Harry has been said to spend a lot of time in the presence of a ‘ _stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl_ ’. While Tilly thought that was one of the only true things she’d read in the whole story (she’d said as much over the breakfast table and Hermione had blushed and looked away, seeming embarrassed but mildly pleased), other people didn’t seem to think so.

“Stunningly pretty? Her?” Pansy Parkinson had shrieked when she’d passed by Hermione in the hallway after the paper had been published. “What was she judging against - a chipmunk?”

Hermione, always one to take the high ground, lifted her head up and strode past Pansy muttering for herself to ignore it. Tilly however didn’t possess the same restraint and Pansy’s howls could be heard all the way down the hallway from where the smug Gryffindor had delivered a swift kick to her shin as she’d passed by.

She’d opted to stay in the castle while the school went down to Hogsmede, she both wanted to try and figure out how she was going to survive the First Task and also wanted some peace and quiet from all the stares and whispers directed at her. Thankfully the common room was empty so, with Henry purring incessantly in the armchair behind her, she used the time to practice banishing charms. This could be used to send any object of her choice flying across the room in any direction she wished. They had been covering them in charms recently, Professor Flitwick had given everyone pillows to practice with so no one would get hurt if things went off target. Tilly relished in the opportunity to attempt to send heavier things flying about and not having to worry about injuring someone.

When Harry had returned from Hogsmede he hesitantly informed Tilly that Hagrid wanted them both to meet him tonight while wearing the invisibility cloak. It presented the issue that they might miss Sirius however so the twins decided that Harry would stay in the castle to meet Sirius, and Tilly would walk down to Hagrid’s. This way there would be no need to rush about and they weren’t required to sneak around together given they still weren’t on great terms.

When she got down there, covered by the cloak, she asked Hagrid what was going on. However he just gestured for her to follow him as he went to knock on the Beauxbatons carriage door. Out stepped Madame Maxine and Tilly felt her giant friend puff out his chest and give one of the beignets smiles she had ever seen, he fancied her.

She had to jog to keep up with their enormous strides as Hagrid led the French headmistress into the woods. Just as she was thinking she’d been asked along to witness their romantic stroll Tilly heard it. A roar, or multiple roars in fact. The closer they approached the more ferocious they sounded, practically making the trees shake in their wake.

As they approached the clearing Tilly was finally able to understand what she was witnessing. Dragons. Five huge dragons were stomping about in obvious distress. About forty wizards and witches, seven or eight per one, were trying to calm them. Tilly could even make out Charlie Weasley amongst them, flaming red hair glowing in the light of the dragon fire. Eventually the handlers gave up on trying to contain the beasts and sent stunning spells shooting at each of the Dragons causing them to collapse to the ground, knocked out.

They were rather impressive, Tilly thought as she gazed at the giant sleeping lizard like beasts. There was a silvery blue one with long pointed horns; A bright red one with a fringe of spikes around its face; A smooth scaled dark green one; An enormous black one with a nasty spiked tail and a much brighter green one with golden, bull-like horns producing from its forehead. Tilly strained her hearing to where Hagrid was conversing with Charlie and she heard him introduce the dragon breeds. Swedish Short Snout, Chinese Fireball, Welsh Green, Hungarian Horntail and Romanian Longhorn. All nesting mothers and all very unhappy to be here.

So this was the first task , she had to get past a full grown goddamn Dragon. Tilly felt panic squeezing through her chest and decided she had to get out of there. Under the impression that she certainly wouldn’t be missed by Hagrid, she started off at a sprint towards the school. Intent on finding Harry and sharing the news.

She narrowly avoided colliding head first with Professor Karkaroff who was stumbling about the woods near the dragons, most likely intent on figuring out what the first task was to help Krum. Tilly suspected that Fleur would know by tomorrow given that Madame Maxine had now seen them too.

She flew through the corridors in her haste to get back to the common room, not stopping until she was inside. Harry immediately stood up, mouth already opening to no doubt relay Sirius’ message to her. He was beaten there however by Tilly - out of breath - blurting out the words.

“Dragons! The first task … its Dragons. Massive, grown ass, adult fire breathing Dragons. There’s one for each of us … we have to get past them!” She rushed out, watching as her brothers jaw dropped and his eyes widened in panic. She ran a hand through her already unruly hair and asked her stunned twin, “We’re gonna die aren’t we?”


	6. Please teach me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tilly panics, then gets help, then continues to panic. That's it, that's the chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the greatest chapter there ever was, I must admit. Originally this was part of the next chapter but then it got too long so I split it.

The next morning Tilly was even more frantic than usual. The twins had gone their separate ways last night. They’d sat in silence for 10 minutes thinking about how out of their depth they were. Tilly had then remembered that she was still upset with Harry and had excused herself and gone up to bed.

Hermione seemed surprised to see her at the breakfast table when she arrived in a flurry that morning. Tilly was hardly an early riser at the best of times, and honestly she surprised herself when she woke up energised and with a plan formed in her mind. She knew what to do.

Finding her was more difficult than she had originally thought, but then again they’d attended the same school for three years without Tilly ever remembering seeing her so … she obviously hadn’t really thought this plan through if her first step was already failing. She felt lost until she remembered something she’d heard Hermione say about her.

The library was quiet, a few people scattered here and there. Tilly even thought she spotted Krum’s slouched shoulders over in the corner. She made a beeline for the section dedicated to magical creatures, and then faltered. The isle was empty. Heart dropping in defeat, she turned to go make her way back into her dormitory, thinking about who she was going to leave Henry to after she died via dragon fire.

“Matilda? Are you alright, you look a bit … frazzled,” the soft voice of Helena Lestrange called out from the table under the window.

Tilly whipped around and felt relief crashing over her. She scurried over to the table and flopped down into the seat opposite. Leaning forward and exuding the energy of a crazy person, she loudly whispered, “I need your help!”

Helena looked shocked, it occurred to Tilly how she must look in that moment. It was Sunday morning and she’d jumped out of bed earlier than she had in years. She was clutching a piece of toast in one hand, her hair hadn’t yet seen a brush and she had a slightly feral look in her eyes due to the immense stress that was weighing her down as the first task drew closer.

“Are you being chased down or something?” the Ravenclaw questioned with genuine concern in her voice.

Tilly waved her hand nearly losing her toast in the process.

“No! Nothing like that. Look I need to know everything you know about dragons,” she tried to speak calmly so as not to startle the poor girl even further. “As soon as possible, it’s … kind’ve urgent."

Realisation suddenly dawned in Helena’s eyes. She’d perked up at the word dragons and was now nodding in understanding.

“The First Task. I knew it. I knew that’s what they were for,” she was now radiating barely contained excitement. She picked up on the confusion present on Tilly’s face, and offered an explanation. “Hagrid was getting a bit over excited when I was last helping him with the Beauxbatons’ horses and he might have let slip they were bringing dragons to the school. I had a suspicion that that was what they were for but there was nothing to confirm it until now.”

Her eyes were shining now, she seemed absolutely ecstatic at the prospect of huge horrifying lizard monsters occupying the same grounds as her. If Tilly hadn’t been on the verge of a mental breakdown she probably would have found it charming. Then Helena remembered what she’d been asked and she set down the book she was reading and fixed Tilly with a grin that barely contained the excitement that was no doubt bubbling away within her.

“Okay, I’ll help you,” she agreed.

Tilly eyed her sceptically. 

“Just like that?” she questioned. It wasn’t always people were so willing to help without a catch.

Helena’s smile faded slightly and Tilly immediately internally kicked herself for being her usual brash and untrusting self.

“I like dragons. And so I think I’ll enjoy talking about them, the other Ravenclaws won’t ever entertain me long enough for me to really go on about them,” she answered simply.

Accepting that, Tilly nodded, then frowned when she caught the end of her sentence.

“What do you mean by that. Do they not like you, the other Ravenclaws?”

“Well some of them are a bit wary of me. They feel as if I should have been put in Slytherin,” Helena looked downtrodden at the thought and her voice was quiet, embarrassed even. “I guess when both of your parents are convicted Death Eaters people tend to want to keep their distance,” she chuckled without humour.

Tilly observed the girl in front of her and felt a pang of sadness. She remembered how she could never recall seeing her in the last three years, how she’d sat reading at the Ravenclaw table during the feast instead of talking with her housemates. Then she remembered how big the girl had smiled when Tilly had insisted that liking magical creatures was cool.

“Well then they are all idiots, they don’t know what they’ve got,” Tilly remarked, earning a slightly amused but grateful look from the dark haired girl. Helena shook her head as if trying to clear it, emitting a breathy little laugh and then reached into her bag.

“So … dragons. Where should we start?” she spoke more to herself than anyone, slamming a dark blue leather bound book on the table between them.

+++

The two of them spent the majority of the next day in the library. Trying to brainstorm every way in which Tilly could possibly get past a dragon. 

Henry had followed her there and Helena was instantly enamoured. It seemed that it wasn’t only magical creatures she liked. Within ten minutes Henry was curled up in her lap purring up a storm, Tilly couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Henry was a very large cat so took up a lot of space and every so often he’d swish his tail and it would brush right across Helena’s face, and every time she would wrinkle her nose at the tickling sensation. It was ridiculously adorable.

Once they’d covered all the breeds - Tilly had been able to recall the descriptions of the five dragons she’d seen and so they were focusing on those specifically - they’d gone on to weaknesses. All the information was along the same lines however. There was very few spells that could penetrate a dragons hide because of the magic that imbues it.

“I mean, none of these breeds actually have a human diet. So in reality the chances of you getting eaten is very slim,” Helena had said nonchalantly.

That had earned a vomit flavoured Bertie Botts bean to be chucked at her head from where Tilly was sat on the floor, half way through the pile of sweets she’d bought for them to share while they worked. 

Tilly was beginning to panic, even if she was able to find something now, she would only have the next day to learn it. It seemed highly unlikely that any magic powerful enough to fight a full grown dragon could be mastered by a fourteen year old in one night.

She went to bed that night with a sick feeling swirling around her stomach and a heavy weight on her chest, acting as a reminder that she wasn’t prepared. Her blood felt cold at the notion she would be walking into an arena, surrounded by spectators, to complete a task that she wasn’t in any way ready for.

+++

The day before the task Tilly couldn’t concentrate. She didn’t go to breakfast and instead headed straight to the library where, unsurprisingly, Helena was already sitting among a huge stack of books.

An hour in and Helena could tell Tilly wasn’t in any sort of mindset to work. So she slammed shut the book she was reading from, startling the red head out of her daze, and stood up.

“Grab your bag,” she instructed.

“I didn’t bring a bag,” Tilly replied. “I don’t like books enough to carry them around with me.”

“Then just get up,” Helena sighed, quiet frustration emanating from her.

Tilly complied, jumping to her feet and having to speed to catch up with Helena’s strides - she had much longer legs.

Helena led her out of the library, out of the castle and into the grounds. They were snaking around the back of the Quidditch pitch before Tilly wondered where they were going. Her brain wanted to ask but her mouth took over and instead said-

“If I was annoying you, you just had to say something, no need to murder me in the Forbidden forest.”

Helena tutted quietly, dismissing the silliness without a word.

“Let’s be honest,” she said. “You aren’t going to figure this out by tomorrow, I wouldn’t know what to do and I’ve been reading about them for years.”

Tilly was taken aback by the words, so far everyone had just been saying how she’d ‘figure it out’ and that she’d ‘pull something out of the bag’, but she knew inside that she wasn’t about to figure it out. The Ravenclaw walking in front of her was proving to be the first person to be real with her this whole competition. 

“So … what now?” Tilly asked. “You gonna help me run away or something?”

“I’m going to help you think,” she responded, “Your head might as well be filled with Billywigs with how well you were understanding what I was saying today. Is something wrong?”

“Is something wrong?” Tilly replied shrilly, she was getting rather worked up at this point, her voice has started to rise in volume. “Let’s see. I got entered into a death defying tournament against my will alongside my brother, said brother is blaming me for it because he thinks I’m jealous of his attention seeking self. That batshit crazy journalist is trying to paint me out as some underdog trying to creep back out of the shadows of my celebrity twin and to top it all off I have to fight a dragon tomorrow…"

She let out a deep breath, expelling all the anger and aggression and urge to scream into a dark void for hours.

“So yes … there is something wrong, and no … I’m not alright,” she finished, managing to keep her voice steady.

Helena was staring at her with an unreadable expression, not the look of horror Tilly had been expecting or the look of pity she was dreading. She was just looking at her.

“You sounded like you needed to do that,” she said eventually.

“I feel like I could do it again,” Tilly admitted.

“Well good thing I brought you out here then didn’t I,” Helena said. The two of them had reached a small clearing in the trees. They were located behind the quidditch pitch about 20 metres into the forbidden forest. “This is where I come when I need to scream. No one can hear you from here.”

Tilly observed the clearing. The rocks surrounding the edge were cracked and slightly scorched in places. A few of the trees had burn marks and holes in the bark. She looked at the girl questioningly.

“What do you have to scream about?” she wondered aloud. 

“So many things…” Helena replied in just above a whisper, staring into the trees and not making eye contact. “It also helps if you shoot spells sometimes, that’s why it looks like something has been blown up here.”

“Good to know,” Tilly replied.

“In that arena tomorrow you will only have two things,” Helena said to her. “Your mind and your wand. So you’ll be no good in there if your mind is full of pent up anger and resentment, let it all out here and tomorrow you can go in with a clear head.”

That actually wasn’t terrible advice Tilly thought to herself, she needed a clear head tomorrow so why not let out all of her frustrations now, what did she have to lose.

+++ 

The two of them stayed in the forest well into the afternoon, by the time it was dark they were cold and tired, but feeling better. And better was truly something Tilly hadn’t expected to feel today, she was feeling lighter in her thoughts and peaceful in her mind. As if by screaming her problems into the void of the forest she had managed to leave them there.

They walked back to the castle in a comfortable silence. Until they were ascending the steps and Tilly stopped to say something.

“Thank you,” she said earnestly. “For taking me there. It’s your private place and you shared it with me, you didn’t have to. So … thanks Helena.”

“You seemed like you needed it more than I did,” Helena said simply. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you with your task.”

“You did help,” Tilly said firmly. “I wouldn’t have gone in with as nearly a clear head as this tomorrow if it wasn’t for you."

“You probably won’t want to hear this but … good luck tomorrow,” said the Ravenclaw, fiddling with her hands and looking anxious on Tilly’s behalf.

Tilly nodded her thanks and offered the girl a smile before returning to climbing the stairs. They parted ways to go to their respective common rooms and Tilly turned to watch her bounce up the steps towards Ravenclaw tower. She still couldn’t quite work this girl out. She was so sweet and smart yet her housemates apparently wouldn’t give her the time of day, she was generous and kind but could still tell it to Tilly how it is, and for someone so quiet around the school her smile sure could light up a room. 

Not for the first time Tilly wondered why she had gone to her the minute she needed intellectual help. She had Hermione who was easily her best friend and smarter than ninety percent of witches and wizards Tilly knew, but she hadn’t gone to her. It was like she was drawn to the mysterious and quiet Ravenclaw. She decided to brush it off as an odd feeling, something that would pass. However what Tilly didn’t know in that moment was that all of these innocent interactions with Helena Lestrange would lead up to something bigger than anything she could have expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are welcome, but then again even if the only person reading this is me then ... that's absolutely fine with me, that was the original plan anyway. Hope anyone who reads this is having a nice day.


	7. The First Task

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tilly competes in her first task, and has a rather unique solution.

Tilly woke up with a grimace, like she always did. Very rarely did she wake up feeling refreshed or anything near ready to start her day. It was always with a groan, grimace or even once a yell, but that was when she’d rolled off the bed in her sleep and hit the ground face first - Hermione had not been impressed.

Walking down through the Gryffindor common room she passed Fred and George. They had a collection tray open and were taking bets on the first task. She smirked as she approached.

“Ten galleons says that the Potter girl bottles it and gets ripped to shreds,” she called out.

George immediately turned to snark at the person talking so callously about Tilly. He stopped and smirked when he realised it was her, but still seemed slightly put out by the thought.

“Hey don’t talk like that, you’ll jinx it,” he chastised her.

“Relax. I’ll pull through, I have absolutely no clue what I’ll do but I’ll think of something,” she waved him off, although behind her nonchalant facade she didn’t really believe her own words.

“Alright,” he nodded at her, but he still seemed sceptical and worrisome. “Just come back in one piece will you, you know that we still need your help with the invention of our products.”

Tilly grinned at that. Once the boys had filled her in on their plans for skiving snack boxes she had been all too happy to help brew potions and research dosages to help them in their creations.

At lunch time Professor McGonagall came to get her and her brother from their separate seats at Gryffindor table. Tilly had opted to sit on her own and stare at her lunch, as if the jacket potato was about to impart some other-worldly wisdom upon her. When she’d passed Hermione her friend had offered her a squeeze of the hand and a small ‘ _good luck_ ’.

The Deputy headmistress seemed just as nervous as the twins felt, hands wringing and voice oozing with worry. She assured them not to be nervous; To just do their best and that there would be people on hand to help if needed. They were led inside a tent in which the other champions were already present.

Fleur was sitting off to the side, looking deathly pale and not nearly as put together as she usually was. Cedric was pacing the length of the tent looking grim, he offered smiles to the twins as they entered. Krum didn’t even turn when they came in, he was looking even surlier than usual.

The champions were eventually gathered in a circle in the middle of the tent, instructed to reach inside a velvet bag that Ludo Bagman presented them with. So as to choose from the different ‘types’ of what they would be facing. Bagman offered Fleur the bag first and then Tilly, proclaiming ladies first. Fleur pulled out a small replica of the Welsh Green dragon with a ‘2’ around its neck, while Tilly pulled out the Romanian Longhorn with a ‘5’ adorning its neck. Cedric got the Swedish Short Snout; Krum the Chinese Fireball; Her brother the Hungarian Horntail. Tilly winced at that as she remembered how vicious that tail had seemed when she’d seen the dragon swinging it around in the woods.

Not one of the other champions looked anything near shocked when they pulled out their dragon, confirming Tilly’s suspicion that Karkaroff and Madame Maxine had gotten involved. Even Cedric didn’t look phased, the twins had agreed that Harry should tell him. To even the playing field and all.

The champions were informed that they would be facing real versions of those dragons and that all they had to do was get the golden egg. Tilly internally scoffed at the way they announced it, like it was simple. One by one the champions took their turn against their dragons. Cedric followed by Fleur followed by Krum until it was just Harry and Tilly left in the tent. They didn’t look at each other for the majority of the time that they sat there. Listening to the crowd’s gasps and the dragons shrieks as Krum put on quite the performance. As Harry’s name was called Tilly couldn’t take it anymore, crossing the distance she wrapped her brother up in a hug.

“Don’t you dare die on me okay, Uncle Vernon would throw a party if you kicked the bucket, don’t give him the satisfaction,” she murmured before releasing him.

He nodded, attempting to smile before replying with, “You too, I don’t want to have to start taking care of Henry if you don’t make it back. That cat hates me.”

With that he disappeared behind the curtain and Tilly could only sit and listen.

Over the next eight or so minutes there were huge gasps and exclamations from Bagman. She was dying to see what was happening. Then a huge roar went up and it sounded as if he’d done it, and quickly too. Lucky bastard! Tilly thought to herself. Her name was finally announced and she stood up, jumping around a bit as she approached the tent flaps to try and spike some sort of adrenaline within her.

The arena was not what Tilly had been expecting. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting but it certainly wasn’t this. She was in a pit, every surface made up of rough rock faces, boulders and deep drops. It was a true dragon’s den.

Hundreds of faces stared down at her, watching her every move as they waited to see what the fifth champion would manage to pull off. The dragon was on the far side of the arena, curled protectively over her nest of eggs. In the middle of the nest Tilly could just make it out, the golden egg that was slightly smaller than the other green coloured ones.

The dragon was bulky, strong muscles made up short stubby arms with a massive body covered by deep green scales. Golden horns glittered in the sunlight, impressive and extremely lethal. Right what did she know about the Longhorn. ‘ _The horns are highly valuable, used as potion ingredients_ ’ ‘ _native to Romania_ ’ ‘ _average adult sized at about 40ft’._ None of those things were going to do her much good here.

She racked her brain as she thought about anything that could help her, but she was taking too long she could tell _._ The Dragon was starting to get antsy.

Taking extreme caution she tentatively made her way around the arena, keeping the huge green beast within her sight. After a particularly daring dash across an open space between two boulders, the dragon lost its patience. A brief hissing noise was her only warning before a huge jet of fire swept across the stone in which she was just standing. Heat rolling over her like a storm, Tilly scrambled to get away from the stifling air that was beginning to engulf her.

However, she wasn’t nearly quick enough for the dragon that was soon upon her. She was currently in a crevice, wedged between two boulders in a gap that was too small for the Longhorn to fit its jaws into. It was above her now, ramming its horns into the space, desperately trying to gore her on its horns. She remembered Helena reading this to her ‘ _the Longhorn liked to gore its prey before roasting it’._

Feeling incredibly helpless and also like she might just pass out from how fast her heart was pounding, Tilly suddenly remembered something really important - she had a wand. She raised it up at the snarling dragon before her and waited until the jaws were open just wide enough, to do the only thing her brain could think of in the current predicament.

“Aguamenti" she muttered.

Immediately a neat stream of water shot out from the end of her wand and went straight into the gaping maw of the Longhorn. The dragon began gagging and spluttering, the water having gone straight down its throat and at a surprising pressure. Tilly hoped that it would be a few minutes before the dragon was able to even think about breathing fire again.

While the dragon spluttered and coughed she hopped out from her safe spot and made a mad dash towards the nest. Reaching forwards the egg was nearly at her finger tips, before her legs were taken out from under her by a huge scaled claw. She was thrown onto the floor about tenfeet away. Her wand went soaring off to the side, far from reach.

Tilly’s head was pounding, she’d hit it on the floor when she had landed and was seeing stars. She could vaguely make out screams and shouts from the spectators as she lay there - dazed. Shudders from the ground alerted her to the presence of the Longhorn which was slowly approaching, pebbling were skittering from the thunder falls that were the beast’s footsteps.

Why was the dragon even mad? Tilly wondered in her head. She hadn’t done anything. All she wanted was to get the egg. Which she could do so if this oversized lizard would just _CALM DOWN_!

Mentally screaming the last words in frustration she felt a sudden pounding in her head which had nothing to do with being slammed against a rocky floor. The effect was almost instantaneous. The thuds that she’d associated with the dragon’s footfalls had ceased. The dragon appeared to have stopped, the growls had diminished, the furious look in its eye had been replaced with a slow blinking that was lazy, languid even.

By some Godric given miracle this beast had actually …. calmed down. Not wanting to risk another second in the presence of the Longhorn, in fear it might suddenly snap out of its daze and impale her, she bolted.

Tilly darted towards the nest, grabbing the egg and managing to scoop up her wand on the path back towards the tent. She’d done it! She felt like screaming in celebration, but the throbbing on the back of her head protested such an action.

She heard a chorus of ‘ _Stupefy_ ’ go off and was vaguely aware of the dragon collapsing before she was being pulled out of the arena and into the tent by Ludo Bagman. His eyes were shining with excitement and he appeared to be congratulating her, she wasn’t really listening if truth be told.

McGonagall looked to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown with the way she was shaking. However she appeared happy and congratulated Tilly profusely.

“Well done Potter, simply brilliant,” her voice was shaking almost as much as her hands as she spoke.

Madame Pomfrey began fussing over her the second she entered the medical tent. Muttering curses about dragons and wiping away stray flecks of blood from where rocks had left scratch marks. After a quick examination she informed the Gryffindor she had a light concussion, but after tapping her wand on the back of Tilly’s head the throbbing began to diminish. She was made to drink a potion that would clear her head up and was then pronounced fine.

Professor McGonagall informed her that her brother was being patched up in another cubicle and that she could see him in a minute.

Not long later her curtains were whipped back and Hermione rushed in. She was hysterical as she wrapped Tilly up in the biggest hug she could muster.

“Oh thank Merlin you’re alright! We thought it’d gotten you when it sent you flying. How on earth did you manage to get it to stop,” for some reason she was in tears and seemed to be doing a remarkable job of wiping them in Tilly’s hair.

“I’m fine honestly, a mild concussion is all. And would you believe me if I said I have absolutely no idea what happened,” Tilly replied. “Also why … why are you crying?”

“Oh just … boys are stupid,” Hermione said through a sniffle.

As if they’d been summoned Ron and Harry rounded the side of her cubicle, smiling. She narrowed her eyes at the two. They hadn’t been on good terms before the task and the fact her and her brother had just survived hell’s pit didn’t change that.

When Harry caught her glance he looked sheepish. Ron was milling around behind him, unsure whether or not to face Tilly’s wrath. She could be scary when she wanted, and Ron wasn’t her favourite person in the world by any means.

So she was rather surprised when he was the one to speak first.

‘So I think I’ve been a bit of a prat,” he admitted while rubbing the back of his head uncomfortably. “I wanted to say sorry for accusing you both of putting your names in. I reckon you’d have to be stark raving mad to enter that willingly.”

“I’m impressed Weasley, seems all that time spent stewing has allowed you to grow a few braincells,” she remarked. He gave her a look as if he wanted to retort and then decided he deserved it and chuckled, albeit a bit forced.

Turning to her brother she noticed the way he held his arm a bit tenderly - he’d been hurt in the task. The realisation sent a pang of regret through her. Regret that they’d been fighting before they went in. That she could’ve lost her twin, the one constant she’d had since she was little. Sure he could drive her mad; He was stubborn, but so was she; Everyone liked him more than her, which wouldn’t bug her if not for the fact that he wasn’t even that incredible.

He had been so ready to leave their old life behind when they discovered this new world, and Tilly had spent a long time worrying that he would leave her too. She supposed that her fear of being abandoned by him could make her other abrasive and defensive around him at times. For that reason, despite her usual stubborn attitude in situations like these, she couldn’t find it in her to snark at him. So in all good faith, the second he went to open his mouth, she shut him down.

“It’s okay. Honestly it’s fine. I’m sorry too.” She assured, ignoring his protests and attempts at an apology. “No time for it anyway, we’ve got to get our scores right?”

Tilly placed first by some stroke of insanity. She didn’t even think anything she’d done had been that impressive, and she’d suffered a head injury which surely should deduct some points. She’d voiced these concerns to her brother, Ron and Hermione who had been ecstatic and told her to just accept it. Clearly the judges had seen something they’d liked. She was two points in front of Harry and Krum who had tied for second. Karkaroff (who apparently had not been judging fairly and gave Harry a four) seemed reluctant when he’d awarded her a six.

She honestly wouldn’t have cared if she’d come dead last, she was just glad it was over, that had been one of the most terrifying experiences of her life. Including the time that she’d seen Lord Voldemort sticking out the back of Professor Quirrell’s head.

The group made their way back up towards the castle. Hermione and Ron were keeping close by Tilly and Harry respectively, as if trying to reassure themselves that their friends were safe. As Harry got ambushed by Rita Skeeter Tilly gestured for Hermione to carry on, and that she would catch her up.

She started approaching the head of long dark curly hair that was peeking out from behind one of the tent walls. Helena was pacing behind the tent, hands wringing and head bent.

“Helena,” she called when she got within hearing range.

The Ravenclaw whipped round immediately, and when she realised who it was she let out a sigh of relief. She rushed forward and stopped just short of crashing into Tilly.

“Oh thank Merlin! I came to see if I could find you but I couldn’t, and I was worried something had gone wrong. I thought that the Longhorn nearly had you at one point and …” her words coming out in a jumble. The rambling came to a halt though when she seemed to realise what she wanted to say. “I- I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“Yeah I’m fine, see, barely a scratch on me,” Tilly joked, playfully indicating to her swollen temple and the scratches still littering her arms.

Helena didn’t really smile though, if anything she looked sadder and regretful.

“I’m so sorry, I should have done more to help you yesterday. I don’t know what I was thinking distracting you from your preparations and I was such a useless teacher and I-”

Her babbling was cut off when Tilly grabbed her arm tightly, but not unkindly, in a grip that said ‘listen here’.

“You,” she said slowly. “Have _nothing_ to be sorry about, you hear me. What you did for me yesterday prepared me better than any amount of reading could have, I can’t explain it but I felt calm you know, well not at the start but when I really started to think I felt calm. And _you_ helped me get there.”

“And hey,” Tilly continued, desperately trying to get her to cheer up. “At least you won’t be forced to try and ‘impart wisdom’ on me anymore.”

“Yeah you were a terrible student,” Helena admitted with a little laugh. “You kept throwing sweets at me.”

Tilly clasped a hand over her chest in mock hurt.

“But I didn’t mind,” Helena said, she was looking sad again. “You listened at least.”

Tilly realised her mistake and hastily backtracked.

“Not that I didn’t like spending time with you. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant you wouldn’t be forced to sit in the library with me like that again.” She said in an effort to convince the girl that she truly did enjoy spending time with her.

Helena nodded her understanding, her dazzling smile was back in place so Tilly assumed she was alright again.

“Oh I don’t know, I’ve had worse company. Besides I wouldn’t count that as the last of our study sessions, OWL’s and end of year exams are coming. Now I know that ‘little miss champion’ doesn’t need to take this year’s exams but I do. So late study nights will be essential, you might even have to join me.”

“Like you’ll catch me studying. I work best on the spot. They should just get rid of written exams now because they give people too much grief. Although I suppose if I do have the smartest witch in Ravenclaw as my friend, that’ll give me an edge right?” Tilly said thoughtfully.

Helena’s eyes twinkled as she replied, “Sure dragon girl, I’ll help you.”

If anyone else had called her that, it would’ve surely earned them a snarling retort and a hex so nasty they may have cried. As it were Tilly was slowly finding that nothing this Ravenclaw did bothered her in the ways it so often did from others. She didn’t know what it was, all she knew was that Helena hadn’t denied Tilly’s earlier statement - they were friends.


	8. Gorgeous dresses and kissing girls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tilly feels feelings for a split second, maybe, I don't know, it could just be a tummy ache.

The Christmas holidays were drawing closer and Tilly was feeling great. She had successfully completed her first task, meaning she had three months to work out the clue that was sat within the golden egg she had taken from the clutches of the Romanian Longhorn. However, during the party that the Gryffindors held in celebration of the twins, Harry had opened his egg to see what the clue was. What had come out was the most ungodly shriek Tilly had ever heard, it caused her very bones to rattle and her ears to feel like they were bleeding.

Since then she hadn’t braved opening her own, instead deciding to give herself a break from worrying over tasks till at least after Christmas. But her carefree attitude had not been allowed to flourish for long as McGonagall was soon delivering an announcement that made many a boy groan but filled Tilly with a certain degree of excitement.

The Yule Ball.

Apparently it was a tradition that the host school would throw a Ball which would allow the schools to better fraternise with one other. It was open to 4th years and above and would be taking place on Christmas Day evening. McGonagall had explained that it was in fact a dance and had gathered the Gryffindors all together in order to teach them a basic waltz so they could take part on the night.

Now Tilly would never willingly admit this to the likes of Harry, Ron or the Weasley twins but she actually really liked the idea of dancing. She had seen couples dancing from what little television she had ever caught in the Dursley house growing up. The men in dapper suits and the women in gorgeous dresses. Ever since she had wondered what it would be like to be spun around a dance floor like that.

It was that thought that had her jumping up a little more enthusiastically that she normally would have when the Professor prompted them to practice. She had smiled while allowing Neville to twirl her around in the hall as they practiced. The boy had seemed just as quietly enthusiastic as she did, and despite the few times he stepped on her feet he wasn’t the worst dancer.

There was a slight downside to this whole affair however, which was that as one of the champions she was expected to open the ball by dancing with her date. This had somewhat annoyed her as she had been planning on showing up on her own, dancing with as many people as she could and just generally having a good time. But now she had to bring a date; Tilly was not pleased.

It wasn’t that she was shy or anything. She’d had a few involvements with boys throughout the years. She’d kissed Seamus Finnigan in 2nd year on a dare during a common room party, she had snuck out of the castle in third year and allowed the Hufflepuff Justin Finch-Fletchley to escort her to Hogsmede on a date. She had even once snogged Theodore Nott from Slytherin in a hallway, not that Harry or Ron knew about that of course. It was just the fact that there was no particular person who she had enough interest in to warrant spending the whole evening with.

“What if I did something really terrible and then they just banned me from going completely. I saw a few red spiders on the floor near Hagrid's hut the other day, maybe if I caught some I could brew an exploding potion. Blow up the Slytherin common room or something,” Tilly said thoughtfully.

Helena snorted next to her. The two were in the library and Tilly was attempting to write an essay about Blast-Ended Skrewts for Hagrid.

They were horrifying creatures. Admittedly they’d been alright when they’d started out as babies, but only because they were small. Now they were grotesque. At six foot long they resembled something along the lines of a scorpion crossed with a crab, thick armoured shells covered their backs, the males were armed with stingers while the females had suckers on their bellies. When they had approached 3 months old their favourite past time became killing one another. Hagrid was making it a class project to care for and study them. He thought they were brilliant, the students … not so much.

“Knowing Snape he would figure out why you did it, make you go anyway and then give you a punishment so hideous afterwards you’d have wished you’d never bothered,” she said in amusement.

Tilly nodded in agreement, as much as Snape valued her as a potions student he would no doubt skin her alive if she messed with his precious Slytherins.

“Who are you going with?” Tilly suddenly asked out of curiosity.

Helena looked away for a second and seemed reluctant to answer. A quiet voice then said “I’m not going.”

“What! Why not?” Tilly asked in bewilderment.

“Well no one had asked me and I’m not really that much of a dancer anyways so I was thinking about going home for Christmas instead,” she replied in a ramble.

Tilly took that in for a second. She and her brother always stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas, for Dursley shaped reasons. And some dead brained part of her had forgotten that Helena might have grown up with people who actually cared for her. Despite not being with her real parents, she had to still have a family.

“Oh right. Well I’ll miss you for sure. I have to admit Lestrange I was looking forward to dancing with you, left foot and all,” she awkwardly got out, admittedly a bit crestfallen that Helena wouldn’t be there.

The two had formed the beginnings of a friendship since the first task, Tilly hadn’t realised how much she enjoyed having a friend that was just hers. She adored Hermione but sometimes she felt the girl could be closer with the boys than she was with her. The only thing was she hadn’t told her brother about her hanging out with Helena yet.

Ever since what Ron had said about the girl’s parents she was worried that Harry would go into protective brother mode. It didn’t help that Harry had seen Helena speaking with Malfoy the other day. Helena had told Tilly she was merely asking Draco for a quill back he had borrowed in class, but Harry was now convinced that the cousins were close. And to her brother, any friend of the Malfoy’s was his enemy.

Helena seemed surprised at the idea that Tilly would miss her, and an unreadable expression had crossed her face when she’d mentioned the dancing. The Gryffindor had already turned back to her work though and missed the blush that had spread across the taller girl’s cheeks.

+++

It seemed that everyone else had managed to procure a date aside from herself. She’d watched as Krum had fumbled his way through asking Hermione to the ball, the two had later giggled about it. Cedric was taking Cho which she only knew because Helena overheard Cho talking in the Ravenclaw common room one night about how he had asked her. And Fleur … well.

It had been almost amusing seeing how mortified Ron was after he’d asked Fleur Delacour to the ball. Apparently he’d lost control while walking past her and screamed his proposal at her. He’d then run off and Ginny had had to guide him back to the common room because he was in such a state. Apparently the Beauxbaton champion was going with Rodger Davies, the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain.

Another fact she knew because of Helena. Tilly had been rather amused to hear that Helena was on the Quidditch team. Apparently she had played chaser since last year and although she tried to downplay it, Tilly could imagine she was rather good at it. She was tall for one, but had a rather athletic build rather than being a lanky sort of tall. She was extremely perceptive which Tilly would imagine was a mark of a good chaser, being able to spot where best to shoot. And lastly she had a certain gracefulness to the way she moved, Tilly had once witnessed her carry six book in the same arm all the way across the castle and hadn’t threatened to drop them once.

At that moment Harry came through the portrait hole looking thoroughly dejected. He revealed that he’d asked Cho to the ball, and Tilly winced in sympathy for her brother knowing what her answer would have been. Her brother, struck by a sudden stroke of genius, ran after Parvati Patil and asked if her and her sister would accompany him and Ron to the dance.

Tilly had witnessed Fred Weasley lob a ball of paper across the common room and succeeding in asking out Angelina Johnson, the pretty Gryffindor chaser. Even Neville had a date - Ginny had been rather elated at the chance to attend as she was a 3rd year and had agreed to go with the nervous boy.

Tilly was beginning to panic, this wasn’t good.

+++

Christmas morning Tilly woke with a start, Lavender was squealing from her bed because of a present she had just opened, her dress for the ball. She had started conversing with Parvati excitedly about the ball that night. Tilly even saw a glimpse of excitement in Hermione’s eyes as the girls wished each other Merry Christmas. Tilly then watched eagerly as Hermione opened her present. Henry was curled up at the end of her bed watching, as was Crookshanks on Hermione’s bed, their large, peering eyes taking in the scene with interest.

It was a letter detailing that all house elves under the employment of Albus Dumbledore would be required to take one specific day off a year - the 19th of September, which was Hermione’s birthday. Tilly had had to go to the headmaster himself and explain the SPEW situation, he had smiled kindly and said he was sure he could make it happen.

“I know it’s not much but I thought it was a start,” Tilly spoke nervously, not sure yet if Hermione was happy with it or not.

She got her answer when the bushy haired girl had all but launched herself across the space between their beds to envelop her in the biggest hug she’d ever received and started sobbing into her shoulder.

Hermione had gifted her a NEWT level potions book called ‘Advanced potion-making’, which Tilly was absolutely delighted to receive, she had been on the verge of going to Snape to beg for a new book to look through.

Harry had given her a brand new set of weighing scales and cauldron. After she had melted her own while experimenting with new potions in her spare time. They were the very expensive kind and she felt a rush of gratitude towards her twin at the fact he had researched to get her a melt resistant one.

Ron had given her a book on Kneazles, they were her favourite type of magical creature because they reminded her the most of Henry. This surprised her as he was rarely that thoughtful, but she guessed he must have accidentally listened when she was talking about them the other week. From Hagrid she had received the usual ginormous supply of sweets which she happily started sharing with Hermione.

Fred and George had gifted her the first look at some of the new products they were working on from their new range of joke sweets. Due to the fact that she had helped concoct half of the formulas it wasn’t that big of a surprise as to what they all did. But some of them were ones she hadn’t seen before and she appreciated the sentiment greatly.

Mrs Weasley had given her a green hand knitted jumper with a dragon stitched onto the front. She had also delivered Tilly’s dress which she had insisted on picking up for the girl herself once Tilly had bought it through the post.

It was Sirius’ present however that both elated her beyond words but also slightly broke her heart. A pair of earrings sat in a plush green case, small emeralds sparkling in the early morning light. The note that accompanied it read.

_My dearest Tilly,_

_While being on the move hasn’t allowed me to stay anywhere long, there was somewhere I went which allowed me to find these. These were your mothers. I remember the day that your father bought them for her. She wore them while they danced at their wedding and so I thought that they deserved to be worn while dancing at least one more time. I was hoping you would wear them to your ball, I know you said you weren’t planning on taking a date so I hope that every boy is envious he didn’t get to escort you. Merry Christmas Tilly._

_Love Padfoot_

When Hermione had asked if she was alright she had assured the girl that it was a happy sort of sad but inside her heart felt like it was swollen from the ache it felt. Not for the first time she wondered what her life would be like if she had grown up with her parents. Would her own mother be sending her notes like this? Passing down her own earrings from mother to daughter. Would it be her father sending her her dress that he had picked up in Diagon Alley and not Mrs Weasley?

She shook away the thoughts that threatened to consume her and started getting ready for her day.

Christmas Day consisted of a snowball battle between Harry, Tilly, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Fred and George. Ginny had thrown a snowball so hard at Fred that it had left a welt. At one point George had charmed a huge snowdrift to hover over Tilly and practically bury her, she’d been shivering for a good ten minutes before Hermione took pity and performed a warming charm on her.

About two hours before they were due at the ball the girls started getting ready.

“I mean what even was your plan Tilly, wait until the very last second and then poof a date would appear for you?” Hermione admonished her from where the girls were doing their hair. Tilly had just informed her she still didn’t have a date.

“I don’t know its just … there’s no one I really wanted to go with, so I didn’t want to ask anyone and have them get the wrong idea. Maybe I should’ve just blackmailed George into taking me. Told him I’d rat him out to his mum about the canary creams or something,” Tilly mused. She was currently help Hermione apply some Sleekeazy’s hair potion to calm down the girls’ usual bushy hair.

“Well its a bit late for that isn’t it. You are just going to have to go down there, explain the problem to Professor McGonagall and hope she doesn’t make you dance by yourself,” Hermione said with a shake of her head in an exasperated tone.

Tilly’s dress, she had to admit, was gorgeous. It was a backless, deep viridian green dress that brought out her eyes and complemented her hair. It was sleeveless and the dress fitted around her neck almost like a collar. The skirt was made of silk that flowed outwards while the bodice was lacy with sequins attached. Lavender had all but burst into tears when she’d seen it.

She wore her hair in a braided updo which allowed for a few ginger tendrils to fall down in her face. Tilly had even allowed Parvati to do a light touch of makeup but had drawn the line when Lavender had approached with golden eyeshadow and a maniacal grin.

The last thing she put on was her new earrings, she felt more confident and happy the second she put them in. As if the ghost of Lily Evans had appeared and was patting her on the back telling her she was proud.

She left Hermione to her own devices knowing that she had to get down to the hall to beg McGonagall to allow her not to dance with the other champions. Cursing her choice of shoes as she had to scramble down the marble staircase - heels were in no way meant for haste.

“Oh brilliant Potter you’re here - oh you do look lovely,” Professor McGonagall noted happily when Tilly skidded to a halt outside the Great Hall. Fleur and Cedric were already standing there with their respective dates. There was no sign of Krum or her brother.

“Professor I hate to say this, there’s been a mix up with my date. I won’t be able to dance. I’m terribly sorry,” Tilly tried her best to look sincere as she made her eyes seem as imploring as possible. Unfortunately tactics such as those had never worked on the head of Gryffindor house.

“Potter! I specifically told you that all the champions were expected to open the ball. I was expecting much more from you, this is unacceptable!” Professor McGonagall wrath was not one to be taken lightly, and Tilly suddenly felt very small for having let down the deputy headmistress.

“Hey no its okay! I’m here! I’m here!” A voice called from behind Tilly.

The Gryffindor turned in confusion as to who was calling and stopped dead. Helena Lestrange was descending the staircase. Her long dark curls were hanging loose over her shoulders looking ruffled but also perfectly styled at the same time. She wore a stunning deep blue dress in a v style that ended just short of her feet, allowing it to swish by her ankles.

The Ravenclaw looked radiant and Tilly had never wanted to hug a person more as she stopped next to Tilly and proclaimed that she was in fact her dance partner. This girl really was a genius. McGonagall just breathed a sigh of relief and turned to address her brother who had turned up.

“What on earth Lestrange! I thought you had gone home.”

Tilly felt all of her earlier stress melt away as she realised that she may just be able to enjoy this dance after all. Throwing her arms around the girl in a very clear ‘I’m so glad you’re here’ gesture.

“I was supposed to but … that’s not what good friends do so … I came to see if you still fancied that dance. With both of my left feet that is,” Helena replied after she’d been let go, looking sheepish but pleased that Tilly was so elated to see her.

Tilly shook her head in disbelief and whispered, “My literal hero.”

She then offered Helena her arm and allowed the Ravenclaw to escort her into the dance with a smile. She couldn’t even offer a care of what her brother might think in that moment, he had his own worries and would surely hardly notice.

Contrary to what the Ravenclaw had told her she was a perfectly decent dancer, as the taller of the two she led them in a waltz and Tilly felt the happiest she could remember as she was finally twirled around a dance floor like she had always hoped. She had even spun her in a lift without much problem and Tilly put that down to what she was now describing as ‘secret Quidditch player jock arms’.

The night progressed without much fuss. At one point Helena was swept up by a very excited Beauxbatons girl who wanted to dance with her. Tilly recognised her as the girl she had seen Helena conversing with on the first night and assumed to two must have formed a friendship. She insisted Helena go and dance, and not long later took the hand of a handsome Durmstrang boy who led her in a wild dance to what the wizarding band were performing.

This was what she wanted when she’d imagined this ball, dancing with complete strangers while giggling uncontrollably. Spending time with her friends and getting to know the foreign students - as was the point of the ball in the first place.

Eventually she had to tap out when the breathlessness became too much and went off to go get a drink. She spied Harry and Ron sitting by themselves at a table looking exceedingly grumpy, their dates were nowhere to be seen. Plopping down next to her brother she tried not to laugh at Ron’s robes, they were truly horrendous.

“You two are looking chipper,” she chirped.

Ron only grunted in response. After catching her breath she decided to go and try and find Helena. Not seeing her on the dance floor she assumed she must have either gone to get some fresh air or was looking for Tilly herself. So she went to check out the rose garden that had been constructed just past the entrance hall.

Couples were sat on small benches and people were milling about chatting and laughing. She wandered through the garden until she spotted a familiar head of dark curls. Immediately going to greet her she suddenly stopped herself as she saw who Helena was with.

The Beauxbatons girl, the one who had stolen her for a dance. Was up on her tiptoes and capturing Helena's lips in a kiss. The Ravenclaw’s hands were settled on the waist of the girl’s silver dress robes, while the French girl cupped Helena’s face to bring it closer.

Tilly felt her chest tighten and spun on her heel so as to give the girls some privacy, succeeding in walking straight into Professor Snape. He frowned down at her looking incredibly displeased at having been bumped into. She bit out an apology in a strangled version of her own voice and made her way back to the entrance hall.

She was happy for her friend of course, no one deserved a bit of fun more than Helena in Tilly’s opinion, but she couldn’t shake the odd feeling stirring in her chest at the thought of the Beauxbatons girl’s hands on her face. And she could not, for the life of her, work out why.

Arriving back at the party she felt her excitement had diminished slightly, but she didn’t let that stop her from being pulled back onto the dance floor by a smiling Beauxbatons boy. When the last song came to an end she made to exit the hall, but a shout of her name made her turn.

“Tilly, sorry I meant to come back and find you. How was the rest of your night?” Helena was grinning at her. There was no sign of her French friend.

Tilly couldn’t help but smile as she thought about her night. She replied wistfully.

“I think I danced with everyone I possibly could so … spectacular. Could’ve used you for the last dance though, where did you get to?”

She tried to keep the accusation out of her voice, as she didn’t want Helena to know she had missed her. Tilly wanted to be nonchalant about the whole thing and she couldn’t do that if she began berating the girl over why she was gone for so long.

Helena blushed and looked rather flustered as she searched for an answer.

“Well … you see … there’s this girl …” Helena attempted to stutter out.

“The one from Beauxbatons,” Tilly supplied.

“Yes, her name is Dominique,” Helena continued. “So after we danced for a bit she asked if I wanted a drink. And I was going to ask if you wanted to come but you were having fun with the Durmstrang boy and so I decided I would come back later for you.”

Tilly wasn’t entirely sure where this explanation was heading. And frankly she didn’t want to hear about how her ‘date’ had spent the majority of the night with someone else. The annoying voice inside her head decided to chime in with ‘ _Well frankly that’s a bit hypocritical considering how you spent the evening_ ’. But she beat that voice up with a big mental stick.

“And so we were in the little garden and she is telling me about France and about her school. And then she leans forward and then …” Helena spoke through a frown. As if the memory was conflicting for her. But then her voice softened. “And then she kissed me.”

Tilly felt her chest lurch again like it did when she saw it for herself. She didn’t like the feeling in her chest. She was beginning to think it was a little bit of jealousy, perhaps at the fact that Helena had someone to kiss and that Tilly didn’t. However she wanted to be supportive towards her friend and so pushed down the feeling.

“Well that’s brilliant Helena,” Tilly forced out. She made her strained smile morph into a supportive one.

The Ravenclaw’s frown was back with a vengeance but Tilly didn’t really see it, she was busy perfecting her ‘I actually am happy for you’ face.

“Well yeah but … I felt bad that I left you and so I wanted to apologise,” her tone was sincere. “But also I felt … the kiss wasn’t …”

But she didn’t get the chance to finish her stutters because Tilly was jumping in with an overly enthusiastic speech about how okay she was.

“Oh my Godric don’t be silly. It wasn’t like this was a proper date was it. You were perfectly within your right to spend the night with whoever you want. I mean I wasn’t expecting you to be glued to my side all night was I. You helped me out with the first dance, and you didn’t owe me anything after that so don’t worry.” Tilly rushed out all at once. “Plus it meant I got to dance with a whole bunch of people and you got to kiss a pretty girl, everyone won.”

Helena’s blue eyes studied her for a second, a flicker of disappointment behind them that Tilly didn’t catch because she was now watching the last of the people make their way out of the ball.

“So you didn’t miss me out there then?” She asked carefully.

“No not at all. Like I said I was perfectly fine.” Tilly shot back, her smile was becoming strained now and she was struggling to sound sincere. “Listen I’ve got to go but thank you again for tonight. You are an absolute lifesaver.”

Helena looked like she wanted to say something else. But then dropped her gaze and the only thing she spoke was. “It was my pleasure … honestly. Goodnight Tilly.”

With that Tilly left the girl by the Entrance Hall, trying to quell her odd flare of jealousy. If she was honest she didn’t understand why it was there, because she had gotten the night she had envisioned. She’d danced with nearly every boy available, laughed with Hermione and Krum, eaten lovely food. That was the night she had imagined, so why did she now think that that wasn’t the night she had wanted. And if so what was the night that she wanted?

She entered the common room while deep in thought just in time to see Ron and Hermione screaming at each other, red in the face. It seems not everyone had had the best of nights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tilly looking at Helena: She's so pretty and strong and I wish it was me instead of those books she is carrying.
> 
> Also Tilly: We're such good 'friends'


	9. The Egg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cedric tries to be a helpful Hufflepuff, Harry is a bad brother and Tilly mucks up big time.

Over the next few weeks Tilly could feel her stress levels start to rise once again. School work was piling up, the egg’s presence was looming over her from its home in her trunk and Helena had been acting weird ever since the ball.

Tilly suspected that the girl still felt some degree of guilt for having left her alone that night. They hadn’t really talked about it. The only instance in which Tilly was reminded was when a group of Beauxbatons students had come into the hall for breakfast and Tilly had seen Dominique run over to go and eat with Helena.

The Ravenclaw’s change in behaviour wasn’t drastic. It was just as if she had reverted to a much more awkward state of existing. Stuttering much more over her words when Tilly asked her a direct question, barely being able to make eye contact and blushing when green eyes happened to meet blue.

As much as she was curious as to whether or not there was anything serious behind this change in behaviour, the thing on the forefront of Tilly’s mind was that she needed to work out her clue and quickly. February 24th was seeming way closer now that it was the new year. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t tried, it was just she hadn’t managed to get anywhere.

Over the remainder of the holidays she had opened the egg numerous times to see if she could decipher anything from the horrifying screech it emitted. She could not. Not when she had shaken it as hard as she could, not when she’d lowered and raised the temperature of the room she was in.

It wasn’t until she bumped into Cedric during the second week of school that she began to really formulate a plan, however her determination was born mainly out of rage. Rage towards Harry specifically.

“Hey Potter, how are you doing with that egg of yours?” he had questioned whilst they walked down the same corridor together.

“Not so bad, still working on it though. How about you?” She replied, curious as to why he was making the effort to converse with her.

“Well did you do what I suggested for you to do?” The Hufflepuff said through a frown.

It was now Tilly’s turn to be confused, “And what was it that you suggested, I don’t remember us ever talking about it.”

“Well no, not us exactly but I told your brother and I assumed he would … has he not said anything?” Cedric looked nervous now, like he had realised a mistake he had made.

Tilly felt the anger course through her veins and she gritted her teeth in a barely there attempt to control her tongue, “No … he hasn’t said a word.”

“Well just, put the egg underwater. You might be able to understand it better. Sorry I should’ve told you myself, I just assumed he would pass on the message. I just wanted us to be even, you know … for the dragons,” Cedric said sheepishly.

Tilly clenched her fists by her side, she was in serious danger of punching someone. So her brother knew, he knew how to work out his egg and he hadn’t even bothered to tell her - his own twin. This was classic Harry, thinking about himself and not once about her, overlooking her as always. She was going to give Harry a piece of her mind. First though, she was going to work out her egg.

“Thank you Cedric, that’s very … noble of you,” she said to the boy. In an effort to remain civil to him, this wasn’t his fault after all. The boy nodded, seeming appeased by her thanks, and then swiftly left.

Running down to the lake she found a secluded area by the trees. Stopping at the bank she took the egg and crouched down by the water. Submerging it completely before undoing the clasp. What came from within wasn’t the earsplitting shriek she had become so accustomed to but a soft gurgle. Plunging her head under she was finally able to hear the song that played.

_‘Come seek us where our voices sound,_

_We cannot sing above there ground,_

_And while you’re searching, ponder this:_

_We’ve taken what you’ll sorely miss,_

_An hour long you’ll have to look,_

_And to recover what we took,_

_But past an hour - the prospect’s black_

_Too late, it’s gone, it won’t come back.'_

Breaking the surface with a gasp, Tilly’s hair clung to her face in freezing wet tendrils. But the thing that was making her blood run cold was not the icy water. As she deciphered the poem she became more and more panicked.

‘ _Come seek us where our voices sound’_. Well the egg had to be underwater to be understood so she assumed it to be in water. ‘ _We cannot sing above the ground’,_ again a body of water seemed pretty obvious. A realisation set in when she looked out over the lake she was in. The black lake had to be pretty deep, there was rumoured to be a giant squid living in there so why not other things.

The fact that the song comes from an underwater dwelling creature made Tilly think that it had to be a semi humanoid creature. Mermaids perhaps? ‘ _We’ve taken what you’ll sorely miss’,_ so the mermaids were going to take something from her and she would have to find it in the lake. She would only have an hour.

An hour! A whole hour she was expected to stay underwater swimming around in the depths of this lake, in February. Tilly decided that the judges actually were trying to kill her. She had never had a swimming lesson in her life. She understood the gist of it, but the twins had long since suspected that the Dursley’s were hoping they would just spontaneously drown one day if they didn’t teach them to swim.

Her mind instantly began whirring, she mentally went through her best bets on how she could get through this. She came to a conclusion pretty quickly and then set off, sopping hair thrown over her shoulder and egg sat securely in her bag.

+++

Potions! They were her go to, her fall back. When all else fails she knew she would still have potions on her side. So she researched, there had to be a potion that would allow her to breathe under water for an hour. There was one for just about everything else.

She sat in the dungeon potions classroom for 2 hours pouring over every book in Snape’s cupboard. He had reluctantly let her in after she had knocked for a solid 2 minutes. He was now sat at his desk marking her class’ potion essays and giving her rather venomous (or considered worried for Snape) looks every time she sighed in annoyance and slammed a book shut.

There was nothing. Tilly began to actually think she was going to burst into tears when a thought struck her. Just because no one had done it yet, didn’t mean that it couldn’t be done. It wasn’t in any of the books which means it had yet to be invented, but whose to say she couldn’t.

With that thought in mind Tilly began a new process - experimentation.

Over the next few days she collected every potion ingredient which had any relevance to water: Shrake spines, African Sea Salt, Pufferfish eyes and an assortment of others. She had always had a natural gift, an intuition almost when it came to measuring and mixing ingredients. If ever she messed up in class she found it almost too easy to course correct. Usually producing a result that Snape would rather chop a limb off than admit - but could never deny - was flawless.

Her first attempt went about as well as expected. A green sludgy substance that smelt like rotting fish. When she drank it she had made sure she was near the lake. However after 5 minutes there was no effect and she had began to think it wasn’t going to do anything when she felt her stomach contract and she ended up throwing up half the water in her body. Damn! That meant too many Augury feathers.

Tilly was forced to take a day to recover after that because she was so dehydrated and she couldn’t keep down any water until the potion wore off six hours later.

On her second attempt the now murky red substance caused her lungs to just … stop working. Tilly had gasped about in panic for about four seconds before remembering one of her antidotes from Snape’s class that she kept in her bag. It was a long shot but she had been dabbling in antidotes that could reverse the effects of potions and potions. So thankfully before Tilly had collapsed, she managed to swallow her antidote. And sat up against a nearby tree gulping in huge lungfuls of air.

Attempt number two was what prompted her to ask Hermione to come along for the third attempt. She knew that if it was something that she wasn’t able to fix on her own then at least Hermione would be able to go and get Madame Pomfrey before she died, given that she no longer had any antidotes left.

Hermione seemed nervous and jittery as they made their way down to the lake. This time the potion was a shimmering purple, it swirled around the vial as if possessing a mind of its own. The second Tilly had swallowed it she knew she’d found a winner. Obviously a few tweaks would still be required, and it would be difficult to make it last an hour or longer. But when she smiled up at Hermione with no visible side effects or breathing problems and the girl smiled back in relief - she knew it was the one.

+++

It was two weeks until the Task and Tilly was not talking to her brother. The worst part is that she wasn’t even completely sure that he knew she was ignoring him. However she couldn’t tell him she was ignoring him because that would then defeat the point of ignoring him.

It wasn’t until the third time she had ignored a question he had directed at her that he seemed to realise something was wrong. They were walking between lessons just the two of them. At this point she had had enough and decided to confront him.

“Tilly! Why are you ignoring me, what’s wrong?” He questioned with a frown etched into his forehead and agitation in his tone.

“Oh so now you remember me,” her voice was cold, harsh. She knew she was sulking at this point but no longer cared. “How’s the egg working out for you?”

Harry looked taken back and very confused. “What are you talking about, when did I forget about you?”

“Cedric, he told you how to work it out. And you couldn’t even let me know. I’m your own sister, your twin! And you left me in the dark.” She spat. The corridor had started to empty and Tilly found her voice rising.

Harry opened his mouth a few times like a fish, trying to find the right words. To dig himself out of this hole.

“I- I was going to tell you, I swear. But I thought he was messing with me. You know to try and throw us off. Plus I don’t want to take advice from him, not when he’s walking around with-“ Harry blurted and then stopped himself at the end with a blush colouring his cheeks.

“With who? With Cho?” Tilly growled out in frustration. “Harry I swear on our dead parents if you nearly bottled my chances at actually staying alive during this tournament because you were jealous over Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang then … well I don’t even know what I’m gonna do. But I promise it will make that scar on your head look like a freckle in comparison.”

“What does it even matter now. We both know. We can put this behind us. If it makes you feel any better I have no clue how I’m going to do it,” He tried to reason with her.

“Well you know what, since you are so insistent on doing this without me, that sounds like a you problem. If I worked it out on my own so can you,” Tilly said cooly, turning to walk away.

“On your own? Please! Don’t think I haven’t seen you hanging out with Lestrange. You’ve probably been getting all sorts of help from your little pet Ravenclaw,” Harry retorted from behind her. “How can you even stand to be around her? After what Ron said.”

Tilly felt anger cloud the original panic she felt at the notion that Harry knew about her friendship with Helena. She was nothing close to being an evil person, no matter who her parents were. Anyone with two eyes could see that.

However she did not like what Harry had said about Helena doing all the Task work for her. Sure she’d helped with the dragon theory. But Tilly had been the one who had mind boggled the giant lizard. And Helena had been nowhere near when she had created the potion, she had done that entirely off her own back.

In an effort to disprove her brother’s accusations about her and Helena, as it frankly wasn’t any of his business, she decided to just deny it.

A small part of her also didn’t want to admit how much the girl was stuck in the back of her mind. It wasn’t like she was always thinking about her, just she sometimes gave a little thought to what the girl would be doing. Whenever she was in Care of Magical Creatures she would sometimes imagine what fun fact Helena would have about the creature they were dealing with, facts that Hagrid might not even know. And her stress would more or less melt away whenever she hung out with the girl, she was becoming a comfort to the Gryffindor. And if Tilly was being honest the thought of depending on another person scared her a little bit. She didn’t like to admit it to herself and she was certainly not about to admit it to her raging brother.

“She’s not my little anything, okay! I barely know the girl. She’s always on her own in the library and so whenever I go in to prepare for the tasks she’s there. That's all.” Tilly shouted. “But don’t you dare judge someone for who their parents are. You don’t know her and have no proof she’s like that. Just leave it alright!”

With that she stormed off round the corner, leaving Harry behind in her fury, and came face to face with the object of her conflict. Helena. However it wasn’t the slightly nervous but softly smiling Helena that she had become so used to seeing. The girl’s eyes were brimming with hurt. She looked like she had stopped dead in her tracks after hearing what Tilly had shouted.

“Helena I- That was- You shouldn’t have heard that,” Tilly stuttered, horrified that she had overheard their fight.

“Is that how you feel, so ashamed to be my friend you lie to your own brother,” her voice quivered. Tilly had never heard a tone so soft, but so heartbroken.

“No. It wasn’t like that. I swear. It’s just he … he thinks awful things about you. Which I know could never be true. I thought it would be worse if he knew we were friends. I’m sorry … truly,” she offered, she had never intended to hurt her friend like that. It was seriously hard watching Helena’s face convey that level of hurt and know it was because of her.

“What things? That I’m a Lestrange! That my parents were terrible people. Those things are true Tilly, and I have to live with that. I can live with what people say about me. What I can’t live with, is the person who I thought was my _friend_ saying she barely knows me because she’s embarrassed,” her voice broke on ‘friend’.

Tilly was quiet, not knowing how to fix this. She almost wished the girl had shouted, because hearing her soft tone voice her hurt was way worse than anything she could’ve screamed at her. She wanted to say so much in that moment, but for the first time in her life she was at a loss for words.

“But hey, I’m going to make this really easy for you. You don’t have to lie to him anymore. Because we aren’t friends,” Helena said. And as she did a tear fell from her eye, splashing onto her blue and bronze tie.

“Helena please don’t,” Tilly tried.

“It was silly of me to think you would want to waste your time with me. Hogwarts champion with the Lestrange loner. Doesn’t have a great ring to it does it?” She sneered in a voice that didn’t sound like her.

At that point Helena wiped her eyes and flung her bag over her shoulder. Swiftly turning on her heel and all but sprinting away. The girl was soon gone, a flash of dark curls at the end of the corridor the last thing Tilly saw of her.

Tilly leant back against the wall breathing a sigh of frustration and anger. How had that gone wrong so fast, she thought to herself. Helena’s words were sticking to her, weighing her down more than that golden egg ever had. It seems she had yet again lost the people who she should be keeping close in times of trouble. Her friends and her family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tilly: I literally cannot stop thinking about her and she makes me feel so happy when I am with her.
> 
> Harry: Oh so I hear you are friends with Helena 
> 
> Tilly: Who? I have never heard that name in my life. This is false information Harry...


	10. The Second Task

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not me updating nearly a *squints at Advent Calendar in the distance* month later. Anyways this is the second task, please enjoy.
> 
> I also apologise in advance for the use of French in this chapter, I do not speak it in the slightest so it is from google and I know that it therefore may not be all that accurate.

The morning of the second task had arrived. Tilly had been tweaking her potion ever since that third attempt. She was now next to certain it would last for an hour. Snape had witnessed the entire brewing process so as to confirm that only she had made it. For that reason Tilly had spent an awful lot of time in the potions room for the last week.

Despite his reluctance to ever offer anything close to kindness to her, he gave a pained ‘good luck Potter’ to her the day before the task.

In that same week since her and her brother’s - and her and Helena’s - fall out, she hadn’t spoken to either. Although only one was for a lack of trying. Tilly had scoured the entire castle looking for the tall dark haired witch. It seemed that when she wanted to, she could make it really easy not to be found. She hadn’t made any effort to talk to Harry, he hadn’t come to apologise and frankly she had other things on her mind.

This morning was no different, except she could not see a single one of her close friends. Not Ron, Hermione, Harry or even, not that she was expecting to, Helena. When nine o’clock rolled around Tilly made her way down to the lake, under her robes she had on the swimming costume that she had been issued the day before. It was a Gryffindor red one piece with ‘ _Potter_ ’ in gold letters of the back.

She was brought with the other champions minus Harry, who still was no where to be seen, and they were briefed on what they would have to do in the lake. Percy Weasley explained that something had been taken from each of them, something they would sorely miss. Mr Crouch had failed to show up due to his ‘poor health’, and so had sent Percy in his place. Tilly nodded determined that she was more prepared for this than the last task, excited even to beat the odds and prevail.

Just as she was beginning to worry her brother had run away, he came charging across the platform towards where the group was. She breathed a sigh of disbelief, she didn’t know how he didn’t fall down more often, the boy was such a disaster.

When Ludo began making his introductions Tilly decided that now was the time for her to drink the potion, she had calculated that it would last for approximately 60-70 minutes. It was the best she could do in the one week time frame she was allowed.

She felt the effects start to kick in. Her skin began to prickle as a sheen like layer spread across her body. She felt her lungs momentarily contract before they relaxed and worked like normal again. Her throat went dry but that was a side effect she hadn’t managed to get rid of yet. The way she had managed to make the potion work is that the sheen coating her acted as a water repellent. No water could actually touch her, and it couldn’t enter her mouth either due to the fact the sheen spread over both of her nostrils, her mouth and even her ears.

She was basically water proof. The outer skin coating would absorb the water and, much like a set of gills, absorb the oxygen in the water. Therefore she would be able to breathe while submerged.

Tilly felt her shivers subside and grinned to herself, she had also mixed in a small bit of pepper up potion to ensure she didn’t freeze in the water. It was February after all.

The other champions were lined up next to her. Her brother seemed to be choking on something to her left. Gillyweed perhaps? Krum was next to him, gripping his wand tight and looking grim but determined. Fleur looked even more anxious than she had regarding the dragons. Cedric just looked like he couldn’t wait to get this over and done with. He was shrugging his shoulders as if to try and get his adrenaline up.

Ludo’s voice rung out to give the champions their final countdown. “In Three, Two, One. Go! And they’re off.”

All five of them had jumped in. The water rushed up to meet Tilly and she was struck by just how murky it was down here. They all swam off in different directions, and Tilly was vaguely aware of her brother thrashing around behind her holding his neck. No doubt his gills were appearing, she knew he would be alright. Merlin knows how he got his hands on Gillyweed in the school, probably nicked it off of Snape.

Tilly flailed her arms about trying to find a good swimming rhythm and once she did she was off. Staying away from the reeds as she feared what might lay within them. The scenes she passed were similar in various degrees, planes of mud, black reeds, the odd log or large rock. Shadows moved below her within the murky depths and she glimpsed the odd tiny tentacle, no doubt a pack of Grindylows were laying in wait.

However they were all moving in the opposite direction to her, as if they were trying to get away from something. Tilly decided that whatever they were going away from was her best bet at finding her stolen item, so she headed in the direction they were coming from.

About 15 minutes later she heard something with made her realise she was on the right path. A very faint sound, foreign but familiar at the same time. It was singing, she realised, the same song from the egg. She swam quicker, and soon enough a large underground structure came into view, some sort of underwater village. Made of stone with weeds and broken statues and … mer-people.

They weren’t how merfolk were usually portrayed. Not beautiful women with glossy hair and bikini tops. Their hair was almost plant like in nature, tendrils of yellow reeds that floated about in the water. Their tails were that of a fish but their ‘human’ half had scaly skin as well. Up until their necks and halfway down the arms. The scales got smaller and smaller until they became smooth grey-green skin.

They eyed her curiously, she was in their home but she had hoped that they would’ve been informed and so wouldn’t be hostile. Despite this she kept a safe distance and made sure not to make eye contact.

Right on the bottom of the lake were six figures, human figures. Five appeared to be floating - unconscious - tethered to the floor of mud and silt by a thick rope of reeds binding their ankles together. The sixth was swimming around and seemed in turmoil. And it wasn’t until Tilly got closer that she could make out who they were.

The figure swimming around was Harry, her brother had beaten her there. No doubt because his feet were now flippers, she knew he was no better at swimming than she was. Ron, Hermione, Cho, and a young blonde girl were tethered to the ground. She assumed Ron was for Harry, Hermione for Krum, Cho for Cedric and the young girl for Fleur. But the fifth.

Helena was floating there. Long jet black hair sticking up on end as it floated in the water like a cloud of ink. Her skin was ghostly pale as Tilly approached, she reached out to touch her cheek and found it cold. She almost wept right there. Her stolen item, the thing she would sorely miss, was the girl who hadn’t spoken to her in a week. The one who surely hated her but she couldn’t stop thinking about.

She turned to her brother, he was staring at her in interest. Taking in the way she had reached out for Helena. She made a gesture as if to say ‘what are you still doing here. GO!’. He shook his head and gestured to the rest. So he didn’t want to leave them. It seemed her brother had taken the merfolk song a little too seriously, did he really believe that they would kill anyone who didn’t get rescued in time.

At that moment Cedric came into view, he had a large bubble around his mouth allowing him to breathe. He went straight for Cho, using his wand to break her rope. As he was making to carry her off he looked at the twins and gestured to his watch. Right … Time! Tilly had no clue how long was left, just that she needed to hurry before her potion wore off.

With that in mind she sprang into action, severing Helena’s rope with her wand and wrapping her arms around the girl’s tall frame. Casting a look at her brother she pushed off of the lake bed in order to get the two of them to start rising.

Then, taking a glance behind her, she nearly had a heart attack. A shark was coming straight for her. She screamed, bubbles erupting from her mouth as the noise attempted to escape her potion’s barricade. Looking again she realised it wasn’t quite a shark. It was a shark’s head yes, but with human legs. Krum’s legs - she realised as the shark snapped straight through Hermione’s rope and was already swimming away with her, not even casting a glance back at them.

She pushed her legs faster now, knowing she needed to hurry. She could sense commotion going on below her and theorised that Harry was most likely trying to take the young blonde girl as well as Ron. Always the moral idiot, Tilly thought.

The water was now starting to get clearer and lighter. They were nearing the surface. Good, because Tilly could feel the shimmer start to leave her skin, the water was now becoming cold against her. She had run out of time. The last few metres Tilly took a big breath and held it until her head broke the surface of the lake and applause filled her ears.

Helena had snapped awake at this, whatever had been keeping the hostages asleep was only restricted to when she was under the water. She gasped in confusion, wriggling slightly as she realised she was being supported.

Helena looked like she wanted to say something but Tilly shook her head and nodded towards the bank. When they had finally swam there Tilly helped her out of the water. She was still clinging tightly to her arm, making sure she was with her.

“Are you alright?” Tilly croaked out, she had gotten some water down her throat when the potion had worn off.

Helena observed her, then looked at the lake she’d just been dragged out of. She nodded, droplets of water dislodging themselves from her wet hair and hitting Tilly’s nose. She seemed to realise something.

“We’ve taken something that you’ll sorely miss,” she whispered. Staring at Tilly as if it was the first time she was seeing her.

“Yeah, they took my weirdo magical creature fanatic friend. Those bastards best be glad I’m too tired to hex any of them,” Tilly smiled weakly at Helena. She reached forward to flick a bug out of her hair, and Helena’s eyes followed her, pupils large and gaze searching. Then Tilly attempted to put a more serious and apologetic face on. “Look Helena, about the other day, I am so so sor…”

Her words were cut off by a pair of arms throwing themselves around her. She found herself buried in sopping wet hair. Helena was hugging her.

“Its okay. It’s fine. The whole thing was stupid, I should’ve believed you. I’m sorry.” The girl was rambling on and on into her ear. Tilly just smiled and tightened her arms around Helena’s waist, the girl gave good hugs despite them both being sopping wet and freezing. Her hair smelled like lake water but Tilly didn’t mind, her’s probably did as well.

They soon had fluffy dressing gowns and towels thrown upon them. Madam Pomfrey was force feeding a Pepper-Up Potion to both of them with ferocity. The girls were made to sit and wait for Harry to finally return. He was the last Champions, Fleur was off to the side looking frantic as she kept trying to re-enter the water. She obviously hadn’t made it to her sister.

Then she heard a distant call and a mass of dark hair soon descended upon Helena.

“Oh my, are you alright _ma chérie_? I didn’t know what to zink when I couldn’t find you zis morning ‘elena. You were so _courageuse_ out zere, _”_ Dominique spoke quickly while trying to furiously dry Helena’s hair with her towel.

“ _Je vais bien. Honnêtement. Tilly a fait tout le travail et un peu d'eau n'a jamais fait de mal à personne. Pas besoin de s’inquiéter_ ,” Helena replied in hurried French.

( _I'm fine. Honestly. Tilly did all the work and a little water never hurt anyone. No need to worry_ )

Tilly had no idea what she had said but it seemed to ease Dominique’s worry. She also heard her name in there and assumed Helena must’ve said something nice about her because then the French girl was turning and addressing Tilly with a smile. Her English wasn’t as good as Fleur’s. The accent was thick, but the meaning came through well enough for Tilly to understand.

“Ah _oui_ Tee-lee. You did _incroyable. Mille merci_ for saving ‘elena,” she got out while still forcefully towel drying the girl’s hair.

Tilly nodded her thanks at her. It was clear the French girl was rather smitten with the curly haired Ravenclaw. But Tilly sensed a flash of irritation in Helena’s eyes, especially when Dominique continued to fuss. Despite that, Tilly was happy for her friend, she was such a special person that sometimes Tilly felt bad for being the only one to see it. And now clearly another person had seen it - and was enamoured by it.

Not a few moments later was Tilly engulfed in her second hug of the morning, this one a lot warmer as the person was also wearing a fluffy blanket.

“Oh Merlin Tilly, are you alright? Let me look at you. Well done, you did it all on your own I’m so proud of you,” Hermione’s voice rang out. She placed a small kiss on top of Tilly’s head as the redhead squirmed in her tight hold.

“I’m fine Hermione I promise, are you okay? I thought shark Victor almost tore your leg off when he was trying to free you down there,” Tilly replied, happy her friend was okay but also slightly teasing that she was the Durmstrang boy’s someone special. Hermione just batted her arm slightly instead of replying.

“Oh Helena hi, are you alright?” Hermione had just spotted Helena standing with Dominique off to the side. The girl had been watching the exchange with a sad sort of smile. “I didn’t realise the two of you were such good friends, lovely to properly meet you.” Hermione’s smile was sincere and Tilly felt a rush of gratitude towards her in that moment.

Helena seemed shocked but recovered quickly, offering a sweet smile of her own. She regarded Hermione with kinder eyestrain before and said. “Likewise Hermione, Tilly has told me some great things about you.”

Hermione was taken back by this but seemed pleased nonetheless. However the girls’ attention was then drawn to the lake where Harry, Ron and Fleur’s hostage had finally resurfaced. A surge of relief coursed through Tilly, she had been beginning to worry as she knew the effects of the Gillyweed would have worn off by now and her brother had still been underwater.

She ran over to greet him, right into the shallow water and hugged him tight.

“You had me worried there idiot. Why did you have to take so long, you could’ve been back first,” she muttered into his shoulder.

He looked shocked and annoyed. It must now only just be sinking in for him that Dumbledore would never have allowed for the hostages to die once the time ran out.

“I didn’t want to- I thought,” He stuttered, his voice was raspy from the water and he looked like he’d swallowed half the lake. Tilly was now helping Fleur’s little sister out of the water, the girl was no older than eight and was shivering. Tilly removed her own blanket and wrapped it around the young girl to stop her shakes. Then proceeded to guide her towards the bank.

Once they had made it to the shore they were bombarded by an assortment of people. Fleur came tearing across the platform to snatch her sister from Tilly’s arms.

“Gabrielle! Gabrielle! Is she alive? Is she ‘urt?” The French champion was in hysterics.

“She’s fine Fleur, she’s safe,” Tilly reassured her.

“It was ze Grindylows … zey attacked me … oh I thought …” Fleur sobbed into her sister’s hair.

Helena had come over to them holding another Pepper-up potion. Tilly took it from her with a grateful smile and made Gabrielle drink it, steam poured out of her ears but she looked a lot happier afterwards.

“Its alright Fleur, she’s safe and the Grindylows are nasty little things. It could have happened to any one of us,” Tilly reassured her. She didn’t see the girl as so stuck up as before, her family evidently brought out the humanity in her.

“ _Merci_ Tee-lee, for zat and for ‘elping my little sister” Fleur beamed.

Ron was currently being manhandled by a very anxious Percy, who was trying to assess whether his little brother was unharmed. And Harry was being taken care of by Hermione and Madam Pomfrey.

Fleur then came over to personally thank Harry for helping Gabrielle, she even thanked Ron for helping. Peppering both the boys’ faces in kisses which left them bewildered but very happy. That was when Tilly pulled Helena to the side. She wanted to double check the girl was okay, also another question that she has been burning to ask.

“So. Where did you learn to speak French that well?” She asked once the two were sat alone and watching the other champions be fussed over.

“I thought it would be fun to learn another language, I want to travel when I’m older so it would come in handy. French just sort of jumped out at me. I liked it the most, and asked to start learning a few summers ago. I’m hardly fluent, but Dominique seems to understand well enough.” Helena explained rather sheepishly.

Not long later the Judges were ready to give the Champions their scores. Fleur was awarded twenty-five points because despite using a perfect Bubble-Head Charm she was attacked by the Grindylows before she could retrieve her sister. Cedric was awarded forty-seven points as he was first back but was one minute outside the time limit.

Krum was given forty points because of his incomplete transfiguration and his arriving back second. It was decided that because Harry had displayed ‘moral fibre’ by refusing to leave before all the hostages were rescued, he should be awarded forty-five points. Tilly rolled her eyes, but clapped with a smile nonetheless. Karkaroff had looked murderous at this announcement. Evidently he had not voted yes on that judging decision.

Tilly was awarded thirty-eight points. It seemed that despite arriving back 3rd and being well outside the time limit, the judges had been somewhat impressed by her potion improvisation. She almost thought she saw a twinkle of pride in Snape’s eyes, but it was probably just an unshed tear of sadness at the fact Harry hadn’t managed to die in any of these tasks yet.

This brought her tied with Krum in Third Place. While Harry and Cedric were tied for First. Hermione and Helena had clapped her on the back, while Harry sent her a happy smile. She smiled back, glad to see him safe. These tasks were having an annoying way of dissipating any previous anger she held towards her brother. After they shared a meaningful look and a nod, Tilly knew they were alright again.

This tournament was starting to be more trouble that it's worth in her opinion, and she couldn’t wait for it to be over.


	11. Memories better off not seen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now that my area of the UK has successfully gone into a Christmas Covid lockdown, maybe I'll actually sit down and write this. Or maybe I'll accidentally watch The Wilds again within a day, who knows. It's up to fate to decide at this point.

Seeing as the Third Task was not until the 24th of June, Tilly was able to relax. Her and Harry were exempt from end of year exams due to them being champions so their workload wasn’t as daunting as those that had to take them.

Everyone had been exceptionally excited to hear all about the Second Task. This meant that it was not only Tilly and Harry who were being bombarded with questions. Ron was revelling in the attention he was receiving, his tales of mermaid kidnappings and fending off Grindylows were becoming more and more extreme as time went on.

Hermione not so much. People were tending to take the piss out of her for being Victor Krum’s someone special, even more so than when she had been his ball date. She had sat stony faced through countless retellings of Ron’s time as a hostage. Eventually she had put a stop to his crazy stories and he had mellowed them down again, back to the version the other hostages had been telling people.

Helena however, Tilly couldn’t help but laugh about. She had long since suspected that the girl was rather introverted. But seeing the sheer confusion and panic on her face every time a large group of people approached her wanting to know about the lake, it was nothing short of comical. Especially when she had tried to dart away from a group of Ravenclaws and had walked straight into a wall.

So Tilly had been keeping close to her, making sure she was there to fend off unwanted attention and questions. She didn’t mind too much, it gave her an excuse to hang out more with the girl. After Helena had forgiven her the two had found themselves closer than ever, and - after all that had gone on - Tilly really enjoyed having someone to laugh with again.

There was Hermione of course, but she was a bit distracted due to the fact she was launching a hate vendetta against Rita Skeeter. The reporter had printed some rather nasty things about her in the Witch Weekly magazine. Detailing how she was supposedly jumping from one famous wizard to the next with both Krum and Harry wrapped around her finger.

Not long later she was receiving hate mail telling her to stay away from Harry, some of them howlers. She even got sent an envelope full of undiluted Bubotuber pus, causing her hand to swell and a crusty skin to form over it.

As a result of this she was determined to catch Rita Skeeter out, the woman was somehow getting interviews with all the Slytherins despite having been banned from the grounds by Professor Dumbledore.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Tilly had taken a secret trip into Hogsmede to meet Sirius. He and Buckbeak were holed up in a cave not far from the village. They brought him some food and Tilly was shocked by how thin he still was, even out of Azkaban his skin still appeared sunken and his cheeks hollow. However it was his eyes that made all the difference. When he had been trying to find Wormtail his eyes had been crazed and wild, they suited the escaped prisoner vibe perfectly. Now though, as he observed his godchildren after hugging them, his eyes were filled with such a warmth that Tilly could imagine a little fire roaring merrily behind them.

The five of them discussed Mr Crouch’s mysterious absence from the latest tournament events. According to the Daily Prophet Crouch’s house was abandoned and no-one had seen him since November. This led to Sirius informing the four that Crouch was the one to give the order for him to be sent to Azkaban.

Apparently he was a very promising member of the ministry who was looking to become minister of magic. Then his own son was caught up with a group of death eaters. He sentenced his own son to Azkaban, where the boy later died. After that he was pushed aside to the department of International Magical Cooperation and Cornelius Fudge made minister instead. Sirius described him as an extremely power hungry and magically strong wizard. Who was just as, if not more, obsessed with catching dark wizards as Mad-Eye Moody.

“If you ask me, Crouch still thinks he can bring himself a little bit more popularity by catching one last Death Eater,” Sirius said grimly.

“That must be why he snuck up to the school to search Snape’s office! He knows that he’s shifty and is trying to catch him out,” Ron theorised excitedly.

Harry had informed the group that when he was out one night figuring out his egg he had seen Mr Crouch on the Marauder’s map. He had been located in Snape’s office. Tilly immediately felt herself bristle at the accusation towards the potions master. Apparently Hermione felt similarly.

“I don’t care what you say Ron, Dumbledore trusts Snape,” Hermione interrupted his overconfident speculating.

“Oh come off it Hermione, I know that Dumbledore is well … Dumbledore! But surely a really powerful dark wizard could manage to trick him,” Ron countered sending Hermione a dirty look.

“Look, I know you’ve had it out for Snape since the beginning. I’ll admit he hardly likes you either, but that’s mainly because you can’t tell a Cauldron from a mixing bowl in class. You have no proof he’s a dark wizard so stop treating him like one,” Tilly finally snapped. She directed it mainly at Ron but also at Harry who was looking frustrated that she was defending him.

“I think you’ve all got a point,” Sirius chimed in looking thoughtful. “When I first found out that Snape was teaching here, I’ve always wondered why Dumbledore hired him. Snape’s always been fascinated by the Dark Arts, he was famous for it at school. Slimy, oily, greasy-haired kid, he was.”

The last part caused Harry and Ron to share a grin, while Tilly just scoffed internally. It was clear that the Marauders had not gotten on well with Snape when they were in school, Sirius especially. And if the way Snape looked at Harry was anything to go by then Tilly was willing to bet that her dad hadn’t been the kindest of the four boys either. It seemed like Sirius was holding onto his childlike opinion when it came to the potions master. The whole thing seemed quite juvenile to her honestly.

“He always hung around with a gang of Slytherins who nearly all turned out to be Death Eaters,” Sirius continued. He begun ticking off names on his fingers. “Rosier and Wilkes - they were both killed by Aurors the year before Voldemort fell. Avery - from what I’ve heard he wormed his way out of trouble by saying he was under the imperious curse. Oh and the Lestranges - they’re a married couple and are in Azkaban.”

Tilly felt herself stiffen at the familiar name. Lestrange. They must be Helena’s parents, the Death Eaters that everyone associates her with. She felt Harry send her a pointed look when Sirius mentioned them. She merely ignored him. She knew Helena, she knew the sweet girl with the gorgeous hair and a dorky smile. But still the mention of the fact her parents were convicted Death Eaters caused a drop in her stomach that she couldn’t quite explain. It was as if her instincts were sending out a warning signal, warding her away from something that showed all the signs of being problematic. Then again, Tilly had never been good at being told what to do, even when the orders were coming from her own raging conscience.

“Snape was never accused of being a Death Eater. I mean that doesn’t mean he wasn’t one though, he’s clever and cunning enough to keep himself out of trouble,” Sirius muttered with agitation lacing his voice.

“And Snape knows Karkaroff pretty well, although he seems to want to keep that hidden,” said Ron.

Tilly thought about that a little bit more, tuning out the rest of the conversation. Harry had told them that when he had stayed behind in potions he had witnessed Karkaroff cornering Snape so that he could talk to him. According to Harry he had shown the Potions master something on his arm and seemed extremely worried about it. Tilly refused to believe that Snape could actually be involved with Death Eaters and such. So if she could only find out what was on Karkaroff’s arm then she could prove her brother wrong.

+++

A few days later and the Champions were called down the the Quidditch pitch at 9pm to get the information for the Third task. When they got there Cedric and Harry were horrified by the current state of the pitch. It was as if someone had been building long, low walls all over it. They twisted and crossed by one another in every direction - a maze in the making.

Ludo looked excited as the Hogwarts champions approached. Clapping his hands he began his explanation.

“Right so can anyone guess what we are dealing with here,” he chirped.

No one spoke until Krum grunted “Maze.”

“Exactly! The third task is really quite simple. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the centre of the maze and the first person to get to it gets full marks,” Bagman said.

Tilly frowned at the apparent simplicity of the final task. Surely for the big finish it could be a little more challenging. She was not the only one who was suspicious of this.

“So we simply just ‘ave to get through ze maze?” Fleur questioned.

“Ah no, there will be obstacles. Hagrid will supply some creatures, they’ll be spells to be broken, traps laying in wait. That sort of thing,” he was starting to sound a little too happy at the prospect of sending five students into a booby trapped maze filled with dangerous creatures.

“You will enter the maze in an order determined by the points you have previously acquired. Mr Potter and Mr Diggory will have a head start. Then Mr Krum and Miss Potter will go second. And Miss Delacour you shall enter last. But not to worry - you’ll all have a fighting chance depending on how well you get past these obstacles.”

“Now if there are no questions then I think we are alright to head back. It’s getting a bit chilly out here,” Ludo concluded. He clapped his hands and ushered for them to return back to their respective accommodations.

He started to walk alongside Harry and Tilly suspected he would try to talk to him again. Apparently he had been trying to assist Harry throughout the tournament, offering advice and clues. Harry told his sister he had not taken him up on that, and she found herself believing him. It just presented her another reason to distrust Ludo Bagman.

She hadn’t liked him since she’d found out from Fred and George that he had flaked on the bet they had won with him. Apparently he owed the twins a lot of money and had tried to pay it all of it Leprechaun gold, which disappears after a few hours. Ever since she had taken a distinct dislike towards the man.

However her brother was saved from having to converse with the man by Krum requesting that he speak to Harry alone. Tilly had only talked to Krum briefly, they had chatted at the Yule Ball when she was talking with Hermione and he seemed nice enough. Still she didn’t know how she felt about her brother going off into the woods alone with the Durmstrang boy.

She gave her twin a look, silently asking if she should stay. He waved her off with a smile saying he’d meet her in the common room. So she turned and started walking back up to the school. However she didn’t end up making it past Hagrid’s house due to spotting something - a familiar set of Ravenclaw robes and dark curls.

Helena was just exiting the makeshift paddock in which the Beauxbatons horses were staying. She was followed by a large shape that could only have belonged to Hagrid. Tilly immediately smiled and went over to greet her.

“Helena! Hagrid. Hey,” she called.

If Helena had responded it was drowned out by Hagrid. However Tilly still caught the smile and the small wave of her hand in her direction.

“Oh hello Tilly,” Hagrid’s voice boomed out. “What are you doing down here so late?”

“Third task meeting, they were showing us the maze you’re growing,” Tilly said with a grin.

“Ah yes its coming along well isn’t it. It’ll be twenty-foot high by the time the task roles around,” he stated gruffly. “But anyways it’s getting late, you shouldn’t be wandering around here alone in the dark. You too Helena, thanks for your help today but you need to be heading to bed.”

Helena nodded before addressing Tilly. “I can … er … walk you back if you like,” she got out.

“Lead the way,” she said while gesturing a hand up to the castle. “Goodnight Hagrid.”

After realising Helena had a slightly larger stride than her, Tilly hopped along so that the two of them were shoulder to shoulder, or Tilly’s shoulder to Helena’s mid bicep. They walked in a strangely comfortable silence, until Helena spoke in a way that made Tilly think she’d had this on her mind for a little while.

“How are you feeling, about your third task?” She questioned cautiously. It was sort of an unspoken rule that Tilly didn’t love to talk about the tournament since the lake, a fact that Helena knew and had adhered to until now.

“I-,” Tilly took a deep breath as she mentally assessed what to say. “I’m trying not to think so hardto be honest. I am not so great with surprises and apparently this maze is going to be filled to the brim with things I can’t even imagine right now. And everyone else is just waiting for me to freeze out there or fuck up. I mean what if there are creatures in there and they just decide to eat me, I- I could drop my wand or twist my ankle or..”

The two had reached the entrance hall and Tilly’s breathless rambling was causing her to get caught up in her own hideous imagination of how she could die in the maze. Helena didn’t quite know what to do so settled for grabbing her by the wrists to shake her out of her thoughts.

“Hey hey hey, stop that. I didn’t mean to freak you out. You have nothing to worry about, you have defied the odds on every one of these challenges so far.” She said in a somewhat calming tone.

The Gryffindor’s panic stricken eyes locked with Helena’s, and it was them that gave her away, they were filled with concern and something else … something panicky and desperate.

“Look if you are going to think about this with the right state of mind the only person who you have to convince you’ve got this, is yourself. Let them not see you as a threat, let them think you haven’t got what it takes. Just because you are the youngest in there doesn’t mean you can’t be the smartest one of them all,” She continued, her voice softening as Tilly started to calm. She was faintly aware that Helena was still holding her close by her wrists, her fingertips soft and secure.

“And hey, even if every single person in that stadium is just waiting for you to mess up, then just remember that I’ll be sitting right there in the front row waiting for you to stick it to them when you win,” she finished her rousing speech with a shaky breathe as if she couldn’t believe she’d allow herself to talk for that long.

Tilly wasn’t focusing on the slightly flighty stance or the grip on her wrists that had begun to loosen as Helena realised she was still holding her. Instead she let the Ravenclaw’s words wash over her. Then her expression shifted into a familiar half smirk that came a bit too naturally whenever she tried to hide her emotions.

“You saying you’re rooting for me Lestrange?” She asked playfully, the quiver in her voice only slightly audible.

“Yeah I am,” Helena replied quietly. She’d drawn closer, whether from the chilly evening or because their voices had lowered to almost a whisper, Tilly wasn’t sure. She was more focused on the loose eyelash threatening to fall from Helena’s left eye, she thought about brushing it away and then decided against it, that probably wasn’t the right thing to do in this moment.

If Tilly’s attention hadn’t been dragged away in that moment she would have caught the way that Helena’s gaze flicked from boring into her green eyes to her lips for a brief second. As it were Tilly had to pull away as soon as she saw her brother sprinting towards the main entrance in nothing short of a panic.

“Erm, thanks for walking me back. I’ve got to go check on Harry,” Tilly muttered. Her wrists were dropped immediately and she took off in a sprint after her twin, red hair billowing.

Helena was left standing, looking rather shellshocked, wondering if she’d done something wrong. Shaking her head to clear it, she ran a hand through her wave of dark, messy curls and went to make her way back to Ravenclaw tower. Images of green eyes, red fluffy hair and full lips followed her the entire way.

+++

Tilly felt rather bad about leaving Helena in the dust like that. She was only trying to be a good friend, to comfort Tilly while she was spiralling in her own stupidity and imagination. And as a thank you Tilly had left her standing on the steps, leaving so quickly it was like she wasn’t there at all.

Those thoughts were pushed further into her mind when she caught up with her brother. He was charging along the corridors, heading with intent towards the Headmaster’s office.

“Harry what’s going on?!” She demanded while attempting to keep up with his erratic half run half power walk along the corridor.

“It’s Crouch. I saw him in the forrest and … he was mad Till. Talking to Percy as if he was there, talking about his dead son. Then snapping out of it completely and giving me strange warnings.” Harry hurriedly explained.

“Well where is he now, did he run,” she asked.

“No, I left him with Krum. That’s why we need to get to Professor Dumbledore _now_ ,” he replied.

Tilly nodded in shock and bewilderment. The two increased their pace until they came to a skidding stop just in front of the Gargoyle statue that guarded the headmaster’s office. That was when Tilly realised that they most definitely didn’t know the password. Luckily for them the Gargoyle jumped aside not seconds later as someone appeared from behind it. Unluckily for them it was Professor Snape.

“Sir we need to see Professor Dumbledore … Mr Crouch … The woods … Krum,” Harry panted.

“What is this rubbish Potter?” Snape sneered. Then turned to Tilly. “Care to translate for him other Potter?”

“Harry saw Mr Crouch in the forbidden forest acting like a loon and we really need the headmaster because he left him with Krum and it’s an emergency,” Tilly rushed out just as breathless as Harry. Running was certainly not a skill of hers.

Snape just sighed and glared with such a haughty look that screamed ‘barely concealed exasperation at having to deal with school children on a daily basis’.

“You know Matilda, sometimes just when I think you might actually prove to have a lick of common sense in you, you go and spout this rubbish,” he said. Tilly frowned at the implications of his words, she had _some_ common sense. “The headmaster is not to be disturbed, now take your silly stories somewhere else.”

“Sir you don’t understand!” Harry began, angry at the teacher’s blatant dismissal.

Before he could descend into a frustrated rant at the Potions master, a calm voice interrupted him.

“It is alright Severus, let them speak,” Professor Dumbledore said from the bottom of the stairs.

His blue eyes twinkled behind the half moon glasses that adorned his face, he looked somewhat tired but alert as if he already understood the situation at hand and was ready for action.

The twins immediately filled him in on the situation as best they could, and the headmaster sprung into action. He ordered Snape to go find Karkaroff so that he could be there for Krum, the headmaster would then go down to the grounds to find out what was going on.

However when Harry and Tilly made to follow him he gently but firmly insisted that they wait in his office for his return. Not one to question the headmaster Tilly complied quite easily, whereas Harry eventually sighed in defeat and trudged up the staircase almost sulkily.

Once in the room the siblings sat close on a pair of small cushioned chairs to wait for Dumbledore. Although due to the twin’s shared borderline ADHD, the two of them were soon wandering about exploring the office and all the trinkets it held.

Then Harry called for her to join him. So she approached the shallow basin he was examining that held a shimmering moving liquid that seemed to be almost alive in the way it moved without rhyme or reason. Then as she peered closer Tilly realised it wasn’t the liquid moving it was the images of people within the liquid that were twisting in a distorted sort of video feed.

But one of them must have leaned too far forwards because soon enough they were both falling through thin air and materialising within a large room filled to the brim with all sorts of official looking witches and wizards. One wizard in particular that made Harry cry out and begin hurriedly apologising to.

“Professor sorry we were just looking at your basin we didn’t mean to fall in. But … how are you here, you just went down to the forest?” Harry queried.

The Professor didn’t answer, he didn't even acknowledge he was being spoken to. That was until a different wizard came up and started chatting with him gruffly. Which was when Tilly realised…

“Harry, Dumbledore did go down to the forbidden forest. This isn’t him. Well it is him, but it’s another him, a him from a different time. I think we might be in a memory,” Tilly theorised. “I mean look there is Moody talking to him now, see how much younger he looks.”

It was true, the wizard who had struck up a conversation with the headmaster was a slightly less gnarled but still just as gruff version of their current defence against the dark arts teacher.

“And so they can’t see us, because this has already happened,” Harry said quietly in realisation.

After a few moments of the two looking around the room their attention was drawn to the centre of the court like area. A bedraggled looking man had entered the room, flanked by two Dementors.

Karkaroff.

He sat in the chair, shaking like a leaf every time he cast a glance back at the Dementors that stood behind just waiting to claim him back as theirs. Tilly realised by the desperate look in his eye and his shaking voice that he had come straight form Azkaban. His teeth were just as yellow as they were to this day, evidently he had stopped taking care of himself long ago.

As the - what the twins now understood to be - trial commenced, they noticed for the first time who was leading it. Mr Crouch, looking younger but just as stern with his trimmed moustache and dark official robes.

Karkaroff began stammering about followers of Voldemort, wizards and witches who had been doing his bidding and then lying about it after. Wizards including Antonin Dolohov, who was seen torturing muggles, but had already been apprehended by the Ministry; Evan Rosier, who was already dead; Augustus Rookwood, a name which interested the court as they evidently hadn’t already been suspicious of him. Last of all the name that shook Tilly to her core, Severus Snape.

Harry gasped slightly beside her, although Crouch went back to looking bored. He explained how Dumbledore had vouched for Snape who had agreed to turn spy for Dumbledore and was no longer a Death Eater at all.

The scene then faded around them, shadows swirled as the wizards and witches around the twins deconstructed before their eyes, only to reform moments later. The same court room, different witches and wizards occupying the court seats, and four chairs in the centre of the room instead of one. Again the headmaster was sat just next to Harry and Tilly.

Harry turned to her, eyes wide in shock due to the scene they had just witnessed.

“Snape! I told you there was something about him all along. He’s a death eater Till!” He whispered, despite no one around them even being aware of their presence.

“Used to be one. You heard what Crouch and Dumbledore said, he’s been pardoned, he turned spy for us,” Tilly shot back in frustration. She was always the one to defend Snape to Harry as she genuinely didn’t believe that he was as evil as her brother always made him out to be, the confirmation that he was in fact an ex Death Eater stung her greatly.

Before her brother could argue back with what she was certain would be a full blown tirade about what a despicable person Snape was, the doors flew open. Six dementors this time flooded into the room, escorting 4 people.

When the witches and wizards of the court saw the four people arriving for trial, they began to talk among themselves. Numerous pairs of eyes flew to Mr Crouch, who’s expression was stone cold. A wispy haired witch - who was sat behind him - began to sob quietly.

There was a thin man who looked extremely nervous, a young boy in his late teens who looked like he may faint from how scared he was, a heavyset dark haired man who was staring blankly in front of him. But it was the last person who made Tilly’s blood run cold.

She possessed a proud air to her, as if she wholeheartedly believed she was better than every single person in front of her. Heavily hooded dark eyes made her look lazy and nonchalant as she glanced around the room, casting a manic grin to everyone who dared to make eye contact. But it was the hair, thick, shining, luscious. The same hair Tilly found herself buried in the first and last time she had hugged Helena. Without a shadow of a doubt this was Helena’s mother - Bellatrix Lestrange.

Tilly could barely listen as Crouch started the trial, she was vaguely aware of the name Longbottom mentioned. When she finally tuned back in it was because the teen and Crouch were both screaming over each other. The boy was yelling for his mother, yelling he was innocent, and finally yelling at Crouch - at his father.

If Crouch was affected by the bouts of pleas he did not show it, his voice was impassive as he sentenced all four of them to a life sentence in Azkaban. The boy didn’t stop howling and protesting even when the dementors came forward to claim him back.

“The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch!” Bellatrix called out as she was dragged away. “Throw us into Azkaban, we will wait! He will rise again and will come for us, he will reward us beyond any of his other supporters! We alone were faithful! We alone tried to find him!”

The heavyset man smiled his agreement, and for the first time Tilly got a good look at him. It wasn’t until he looked up that she understood why he resonated with her. His eyes, deep blue and pooling, despite the dead look in them. If there had been a spark of excitement, a crinkle around the edge as he smiled, then Tilly could have tricked herself she was looking into Helena’s eyes. 

“I think, Harry, Matilda, it is time to return to my office,” a calm voice said from behind the twins. Another Dumbledore stood behind them, the Dumbledore from the courtroom was still sat, whereas this one acknowledged that they were actually there.

The headmaster put a hand under each of their elbows and Tilly felt herself rise up, the courtroom and its occupants dissolving around her. Merlin they were going to be in trouble.


	12. Before the task

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mainly a set up chapter before the maze, as the title suggests.

By some Godric given miracle the headmaster was understanding about the mishap, once he had explained to the two of them what the pensieve actually was - a way in which to store memories and revisit them.

Tilly was barely listening, she excused herself soon after Dumbledore started asking Harry questions about what he had seen in the woods, explaining that she hadn’t actually been there to witness.

Trudging back to the common room in a bit of a daze. She didn’t quite now why she was so shocked, she had known who her friend's parents were, she had known the vague details of what crimes they’d committed. But seeing them in person, seeing the arrogance and haughty looks from the type of witch who would like nothing more than to see all the muggles burn, and seeing it in the spitting image of the girl who had somehow wormed her way onto Tilly’s short list of people she cared for - it was all a bit much.

Harry had arrived back at the common room later, he’d insisted they fill in Hermione and Ron on what he’d discussed with Dumbledore and what they’d seen in the memories. Everything from Crouch incarcerating his own son to Snape being a former death eater and spy. He mentioned nothing of the Lestranges though, nothing of the supposed torture they’d inflicted on the Longbottoms. Tilly supposed that was out of courtesy to Neville, not wanting to discuss his parents behind his back.

The third task was drawing nearer, and in some way Tilly was glad for it. The sooner it arrived the sooner it would be over, then she could go back to being the Potter that no one looks twice at. She could hardly wait.

The rest of the school were preparing and revising for their end of year exams so Harry and Tilly had lots of spare time to practice for the third task. At times they would practice together and other times Tilly would pour over books for hours alone in the library. She hadn’t had the courage to spend any time with Helena since the pensieve, for fear of acting weird towards her. She had glimpsed her in the far corner of the library two days ago, and seeing the cascading dark locks had only reminded her of the crazy death eater. Tilly also felt like she had intruded a bit on the girl’s personal life. Despite the whole thing occurring by accident she felt it oddly personal that she had seen her parent’s trial, it was their last moments before being locked away in Azkaban forever.

So it was no surprise when the Ravenclaw finally decided to track her down out of confusion for her friends absence.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” a soft voice sounded. Yet it still managed to make Tilly jump. She had been half asleep with her head resting on the pages of an open book about defensive spells.

“Wha- Oh hi,” she murmured in the vague direction of Helena.

“Hi,” she replied, taking a seat opposite. The library was starting to empty as it was getting late and most students took their studies back to their common rooms after 8. “You’re avoiding me,” she repeated.

“I’m practicing,” Tilly said in a weak effort to defend herself. “Weren’t you the one that said that that was the only way I was going to stand a chance… Wait no that was Hermione. She said that after I told her I was going to wing it and go into the maze with a full stomach and an empty head - then she whacked me with her ancient runes book.”

Helena was desperately trying to keep a stern expression because she was upset with Tilly for ignoring her, however when the image of Hermione attacking Tilly with a textbook was put into her head she couldn’t help but chuckle quietly.

“Why?” Helena questioned, trying to revert back to her kicked puppy look. “Did I do something?”

In that moment Tilly thought about a few things. She thought about how important it was to be honest in friendships, how it helped to build trust between the two of them and created a good foundation for a strong platonic relationship. She thought about how upset the girl had been the last time she felt betrayed by her. She also thought about how much she didn’t want the girl in front of her to feel any pain, pain because someone was judging her based on her parents, pain because her best friend had witnessed the trial of her wizard terrorist parents.

All those thoughts led to the conclusion that she would have to keep her damn mouth shut in this moment. Or at least skirt around the true issue.

“No,” she said with a sigh, head resting on her hand and eyes big and apologetic. “Its nothing to do with you, you’re wonderful.”

Helena blushed slightly at her words, then leant forwards with her brow furrowed and her tone concerned. One of her hands reached across the table and settled comfortingly over Tilly’s free hand that was splayed across the table. God this girl was too caring for her own good.

“Well okay then what’s wrong? Is everything alright?” She asked. “You feeling nervous? I told you I was here to help.”

“I’m a little nervous to be honest. But I think I just wanted to clear my head, no distractions you know,” the Gryffindor admitted. That was actually true, Helena was a distraction in a few different ways. She felt it in the way she would always look for her in the great hall at meals, in the way she would smile involuntarily at the first sign of dark, bouncy curls and in the way she was all too aware that Helena was still holding her hand.

The Ravenclaw nodded her head in understanding, and just as she went to reply her bag let out a few alarmed squeaks.

“Jesus! Rodge. Would you calm down,” she admonished the squealing Knarl, removing him from the confines of her bag and placing him on the table. Immediately his beady eyes latched on Tilly like they always did, the little beast still wasn’t sure of her. Tilly didn’t particularly blame him, lots of people didn’t take to her, something about her ‘abrasive personality’ and ‘general disregard for others’.

Nonetheless whenever she would see him she would coo sweetly and pretend her and the little bastard were on good terms. Because Helena loved him, and if Helena loved him then Tilly would tolerate him. Even if he did act like he was trying to figure out how best to maim her.   
  
Tilly couldn’t help but think he might have seen through her facade in that moment, that he knew she was lying to his mistress. For that reason Tilly was glad Helena hasn’t worked out how to speak to her animals yet, she didn’t need a damn hedgehog spilling her secrets just because he had good character judgement and instincts. Helena would probably hate her anyway, so for that Tilly was double relieved.

+++

Gryffindor table was a riot on the morning of the Third Task. Fred and George had had made large banners in support of the Potters, Colin Creevey was decked in Harry support badges, scarves and face paint, and Hermione had charmed the lion on her scarf to roar Tilly and Harry’s names, much to the former’s amusement.

Before breakfast had finished the twins were addressed by the Gryffindor head of house.

“Potters. All the champions are meeting in the chamber off of the great hall after breakfast. Make sure you head there when you are done,” Professor mcgonagall said.

“But the task isn’t ’til tonight,” Tilly replied.

She felt confused as to why they were meeting this early on in the day. Beside her Harry was wide eyed as he considered that they might’ve gotten the time wrong.

“I am aware of that. The champions’ families are invited to watch the final task, you know. You are to go there to greet them,” The Professor explained, before moving away.

Harry shared a bewildered look with his sister.

“Surely she’s not expecting the Dursleys to show up, is she?” he asked blankly.

That caused Tilly to conjure a very vivid image of Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley sitting in the quidditch stands covered head to toe in ‘Potter’ paint, scarves and banners looking as out of place as could possibly be.

Reluctantly the two made their way to the chamber when they saw Fleur, Cedric and Krum get up from their respective breakfast tables. They hung back slightly while the others walked in, not wanting to head straight into the disappointment and embarrassment of not having any family to show up and support them.

As they stood against the wall, Harry wondered if they should just cut their losses and go to the library to get some last minute hex practice in.

Tilly instead leant slightly against her brother, head on his shoulder, and sighed. The meaning was quite clear, they may not have family in there waiting to watch them risk their lives, but they had each other. They would always have each other, no matter how much they drove each other crazy or how stubborn they both were, they were a team.

The moment was interrupted by Cedric popping his head back out of the chambers and addressing the two, “Tilly, Harry, come on they’re waiting for you.”

Frowning, Tilly led the way for the two of them to enter the chambers, and what she saw made her breath hitch and her heart swell.

Mrs Weasley and Bill were stood by the fireplace smiling warmly at the twins.

“Surprise,” she said excitedly. Waving her hands to support the turn of events. “Thought we’d come and watch you!”

She allowed the woman to sweep her up into a hug so bone crushing and filled with such warmth and safety that it could only come from a mother figure.

The four of them spent the morning touring the castle, allowing Bill and Mrs Weasley to see everything that had changed since they had left. Mrs Weasley was especially fascinated by the whomping willow, which had been planted after she had left. They then met Ron, Ginny, Hermione and the twins at lunch, where there was so much laughter and fun it felt like being back at The Burrow.

Tilly didn’t miss the disdainful looks that were being sent her and Harry’s way from the Hufflepuff table where Amos Diggory was talking louder than necessary about how Cedric had beaten a Potter once and could easily do it again. He evidently was angry about the Rita skeeter articles that dismissed Cedric entirely, which Tilly couldn’t blame him for.

Neither of the twins ate much at all. Harry sat there running through every hex he had learned overthe past few weeks and Tilly was trying not to vomit down herself thinking about what was laying in wait. She had a really odd sick to her stomach feeling in the pit of her belly, which never meant anything good, and she had a distinct feeling it didn’t have anything to do with her empty stomach.

The last time she had had a feeling this bad, she’d ended up being chased through the forbidden forest by werewolf Lupin. She’d learnt to trust her odd feelings and was dreading finding out what dangers would end up making her feel like that. Because what she had realised, when she had been running for her life alongside Harry and Hermione in the woods, was that she had the exact same feeling in her stomach. Almost like a premonition. Something in her had known she would be so terrified to the point her stomach would hurt, and she’d felt it before it had ever happened, like the weirdest psychic powers ever. Professor Trelawney would surely pass out from excitement if she had known Tilly could possibly possess ‘the gift’.

It was for that reason, and a few others, that Tilly had never spoken about these feelings before. Not a word to her brother about the determination and fear she felt after seeing Moody cast the killing curse, nothing to Hermione when she had felt the overwhelming sadness while looking at the dark mark at the World Cup.

She had even refrained from confiding in Helena after she had somehow calmed the Dragon during the First task. She was scared by these occurrences, not knowing what they were, what they meant, and how they were happening. All she knew was, they were becoming more and more frequent.

+++

The walk down to the Quidditch pitch was the most nerve wracking of her life. Every person they passed would give them a look of either admiration, awe or downright sympathy, it was anxiety inducing and somehow made Tilly feel even smaller than she felt.

But, never one to crack under pressure, she held her head high and marched towards the arena like she didn’t have a care in the world. That was until she halfway down and had her arm wrenched to the side.

Panic set in momentarily when she found herself pulled away out of sight, but she calmed immediately when she saw kind blue eyes and a face painted with two ’Ts’, one gold and one red, on either cheek.

“Look at you, wearing Gryffindor colours,” Tilly joked, trying to clear the lump in her throat. She had hundreds of people cheering for her and her brother, so why did knowing she had Helena’s support affect her so much.

“Well I told you I was here to support you didn’t I,” the taller girl quipped. But there wasn’t much amusement in her voice, she was staring at Tilly like she couldn’t bare to tear her eyes away. “I wanted to catch you before you went in, to wish you luck and to give you something.”

With that she pressed the item clasped in her hand, into Tilly’s palm. It was a small badge depicting a blue eagle. Very Ravenclaw. The chest of the eagle had a bronze ’T’ shimmering on it. Tilly smiled softly as she observed the small gift, already moving to pin it onto her tournament robes.

“Helena thank you. It’s lovely,” she whispered sincerely.

“I’m glad you like it. I’ve been working on it for a few weeks. You see it is supposed to detect danger, the wings will start to flap if danger is near, the faster they flap the closer it is. I thought it would be good for the maze, when choosing what path to take you know,” she replied. Eyes cast down towards the end as if she was embarrassed by the effort she had made.

Tilly just stared back in utter disbelief, trying to compute and absorb the sheer genius and brilliance of the girl in front of her. She settled on speaking her mind, needing the girl to know how much she meant to her without actually saying it. “You’re amazing, you know that.”

She threw her arms around Helena’s neck, pulling her into a tight hug, which the girl returned equally as intense. She could feel Helena’s nose in the crook of her neck and was sure that all the other girl could see would be ginger hair, but neither seemed to care. The moment was only broken by a barely there mumble from the Ravenclaw.

“Please don’t die in there,” she spoke softly and directly into Tilly’s shoulder. “Please.”

She nodded into the taller girl’s neck, not hesitating to make a promise that she wasn’t even sure was in her power to keep.

“I promise. I’ll come back. It’ll take more than a few monsters in a maze to keep me down for long,” the Gryffindor replied.

With that she went to pull away, knowing she was due in the maze any moment. However, the weight of those blue eyes when they finally made eye contact combined with the way Helena had kept her arms loose around her so as to not let her go, made her want to scrap the whole task and stay hidden behind the stadium forever.

“Tilly, I-,” Helena started to say quietly, eyes subtly flitting between Tilly’s eyes and mouth, before a huge roar from the spectators and upbeat music started playing. It jolted the two girls from their moment and Helena immediately let go of Tilly as if she had been shocked.

“I’ve got to go, I’m sorry,” Tilly said, hands starting to shake. Her nerves had come back full force, washing over her like a bucket of icy water.

“Good luck,” Helena nodded back solemnly. Somehow managing to look as scared as Tilly felt, scared for Tilly’s fate she supposed.

She barely made it to the front of the maze in time, but luckily the others appeared to be waiting for her. Hagrid, Professor Mcgonagall, Professor Flitwick and Professor Moody were stood with the champions, each baring a bright red star on their person. They would be patrolling the maze and said if a champions wanted to get out of the maze they would need to send up red sparks and they would come and collect them.

As Ludo had informed them previously they would be entering based on points. Which meant Harry and Cedric would go first.

Harry stepped forwards to line up, giving Tilly a nod over his shoulder to where she stood behind him waiting. She returned it back, no words had to be exchanged to know that they would have each other’s backs in there. Cedric was off to the side, the two boys entering in two different entrances.

“Alright Harry, Cedric, on my whistle,” Bagman said. “Three Two One-.”

He gave a short blast of his whistle and Harry and Cedric hurried into the maze, after a few steps the gloom had consumed them and they were no longer visible.

Tilly took a moment to look around her. Krum was to her left, looking surly as always but was bouncing on the balls of his feet to show his nerves. Fleur was behind her looking sick to her stomach, blue robes doing nothing to hide the shivers coursing throughout her whole body, though this time Tilly suspected it wasn’t to do with the temperature.

In the stands Ron and Hermione were waving fiercely when they caught her eye, Mrs Weasley was beaming a proud grin and Bill was holding a thumbs up mouthing ‘Good Luck’.

Sat a few rows below was Helena. Dominique was sat beside her chatting excitedly, but the Ravenclaw’s eyes were latched onto Tilly. She smiled slightly, before giving her a single nod. And it was with that nod that Tilly knew she would be alright, she may not win but she knew she would be getting out of that maze alive. If only so she could see those eyes again, and so she could work out why they made her feel like she was falling into dark water.

Ludo Bagman was counting down again, she could hear it dully amongst the cheering crowd and pounding of her heart. A whistle blew, Krum was moving beside her, and Tilly had to tear her eyes away and force her legs to move. One step forward, two, and now she was running. Running into the maze, the walls of which immediately closed behind her, sealing her in and giving her no other option but forwards.


	13. The Maze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our champions take on the maze and the monsters within it.

If darkness could crush you then Tilly would’ve been dead the minute the light was cut off. The hedges seemed to hold a gloom that hadn’t extended to the well lit stadium area they had just been occupying. The walls were 20ft high and bordered her in from both sides, giving her about a metre width of space to walk. They were far enough apart that Tilly could walk comfortably without brushing the sides, but close enough that she was actually aware of their presence. It sent a spike of panic through her as she felt her claustrophobia start to come to light, but she focused hard on keeping her heart steady and tried to quell any panic.

She held her wand high to her left, the tip glowing with light to illuminate the path she had taken. She had once heard to get to a centre of a maze you had to keep one hand on the wall the whole time, or was that to get out of a maze. Tilly wasn’t sure, but she imagined it would take a horribly long time either way. She had settled for trying to head as straight ahead as possible. So far she had taken a left, two rights and another left. Each path felt exactly the same, until her fifth turn that was.

The path ahead seemed just like all the rest, but at a closer look Tilly could soon tell what was different. Right at the end of the path was shimmering purple cloud of smoke, it was swirling and twirling, and was slowly making its way towards her. The impatient part of her brain contemplated walking through it, but her logical side kicked in the second she caught a whiff of it - Lavender.

It took a second for her brain to comprehend but the second it did she started scrambling back the way she came, which caused the smoke to approach faster, creeping along the grass like a purple carpet. The lavender scent, combined with the fierce purple colour, there was no doubt in Tilly’s mind what this was. A sleeping drought in vapour form, a simple yet efficient way of taking any champion out of the running. It would cause them to immediately fall asleep and judging by how thick the vapour is, remain unconscious for the majority of the task.

So she turned on her heel and ran faster, trying to fight the way her eyes were starting to droop, taking turn after turn to outrun the gas potion. Eventually she sprinted into a four path crossroad, and when she checked behind her the vapour seemed to have hit an invisible wall. It was confined to that section of the maze, she realised, thank Godric.

She decided to take the path directly opposite to the one she had just emerged from, ruling out the paths to her left and right for fear of accidentally doubling back on herself. After a few minutes she heard a loud bang in the distance and a muffled yell. That didn’t sound too promising.

Taking a left she stopped dead in her tacks upon seeing a shape on the floor, the figure appeared to be in a lot of pain and was moving in small jerking motions. She nearly fell to her knees when she recognised the messy black hair, glasses and scar etched into a pale sweaty forehead. It was Harry.

“Harry!” She screamed. Rushing forwards, tears clouding her vision as she tried to assess what was wrong with him. He was still breathing but it was a horrible gasping sound, not unlike a fish out of water. Every single logical thought had somehow managed to rush out of her brain, abandoning her in a time of need.

Tilly was so distraught she could barely hear her name being called over and over again. She felt hands on her shoulders trying to pull her away, away from her brother. It made her cling onto his body harder, sobbing even louder into his chest. That was until the hands were around her waist and she was being hoisted clean into the air.

“Potter, POTTER, TILLY!” the voice finally registered in her mind. She looked back to who had her in a bear hug, still holding her a foot off the ground. It was Cedric.

“Look at me,” his voice said, but it sounded like it was being echoed across a room. “It’s not real, It’s a boggart. Okay. Tilly listen. IT’S NOT REAL!”

It was at that point she let her body go limp, leaning her head back on his shoulder and letting the tears of relief soak her face. She had no reason to believe him, not when her brother’s body was lying 3 metres away taking it’s last breathes. But something in the way he held her so tight and how his voice held so much certainty made her trust him.

She nodded her head, which he took as a sign to let her down gently. She landed on wobbly legs, but decided to slide to the ground to compose herself. Her heart was pounding as if she’d just finished a 200 metre sprint.

Cedric then stepped over her, walking towards Harr-the boggart’s body. It raised it’s head to stare at Cedric which was when Tilly knew for sure. But before it could decide a form to take for the Hufflepuff, Cedric had already raised his wand.

“Riddikulus,” he shouted. The boggart dematerialised in front of them, the shadows that once made up a solid form was sinking into the ground, seeping under the hedges and out of sight.

Cedric ran back and crouched down in front of her.  
  


“I saw him, not a minute ago. Running the other way. He told me there was a boggart. Are you alright?” He asked. His shirt was scorched quite severely and there was blood and soot in his hairline.

“M’fine,” Tilly murmured, hating how emotionally weak and physically drained she felt. “Go. I need a minute.”

He nodded his affirmation, eyes scanning her one last time. Then, upon seeing the weak smile of reassurance she sent his way, he turned and ran off.

Tilly gave herself one minute, a shakily counted sixty seconds, to collect herself and to calm her pulse. Then she stood up on shaky legs that she dared to give out under her, and before long she was jogging along with a new found determination. This maze wanted to fuck with her, she was going to fuck right back.

She hit three dead ends after that, six minutes of no obstacles in sight. On the seventh minute she heard a scream, definitely female and definitely Fleur. Tilly moved quicker, trying not to think about what had made her make that noise.

Then she heard shouts, three different shouts. Cedric’s voice was loud but unintelligible from so far away, Krum’s deep voice was distinguishable and so the last voice must be Harry. She quickened her pace, trying to zero in on where the voices were coming from. Red sparks shot up a little to her left, by the time she got there all she could see was Krum lying on the ground motionless, he’d been stunned.

What on earth was going on, had Cedric done this, or Harry. Tilly didn’t like to imagine. She had to keep moving and stop getting distracted. The quiet part of her mind reminded her that that was one less opponent, but she hushed that part of her as soon as it started speaking. The red sparks must be so someone could come and collect the boy.

She was now staring at a three way fork. Opting for the one straight ahead she continued on swiftly. Another five minutes went by with nothing, not a peep. So she was mildly excited when she saw the figure gliding towards her, a little less excited when she took in the appearance.

It was a women, a woman with floor length black hair and a skeletal, green-tinged face. She was gliding across the maze floor as if on a slow moving conveyer belt. It was almost eerie the way she approached Tilly, not displaying any signs of hostility. That was until she opened her mouth and let out a wail that rattled Tilly’s teeth and made the roots of her hair tingle. It was a banshee.

Tilly imagined the tournament organisers hadn’t allowed a Banshee at full power to roam the maze, because she was well aware that a Banshee’s scream was fatal when heard. It felt more like the time that Seamus’ boggart had turned into a Banshee and wailed in Defence Against the Dark Arts with Lupin.

Even so it was extremely powerful, Tilly could barely think let alone conjure up a plan to immobilise or stop the sound. So the second the banshee stopped she did the first thing she could think of, the only thing that made sense.

“Quietus,” she mumbled, clutching her head which felt like it had been split in half and pointing her wand directly at the Banshee.

The next time the Banshee opened its mouth it seemed almost confused by the much quieter screech that came out. Grasping at it’s own throat like it couldn’t work out where it’s voice had gone. Tilly took advantage of the confusion to dash past and sprint down two more paths, running until she was certain she was far away enough. Her ears were still ringing dully and she could hear the blood pounding in her head more than her own heavy breathing which worried her greatly.

It was probably for that reason she didn’t hear it moving until it brushed her shoulders. The hedges, the very walls of the maze were closing in behind her, and fast. Tilly bolted, her claustrophobia overriding her hatred of running. She ran and ran until her legs were swept right out from underneath her.   
  
Thick, bramble like roots had snuck out from the bottom of the hedges, wrapping tightly around her ankles and now the rest of her body that had hit the floor. Her wand had fallen not far from her left hand and she stretched as far as she could to reach it, succeeding just before that forearm was bound by a root. Wiggling and struggling only seemed to make it worse. The only upside was that the rumbling of the maze walls had subsided and they weren’t closing in anymore, the downside was she was being dragged into the hedge itself.

Tilly could barely think with the pounding in her head, she was having trouble breathing due to the roots wrapping around her chest and neck. So she knew she hadn’t said anything when it happened. Her wand, the second her fingertips managed to barely brush it, as if reading a part of her mind that she wasn't even aware about, shot a short burst of fire at the hedges.

The effect was instantaneous. The roots wrapped around her flinched, like a living thing cowering in fear. The second burst had them unravelling quicker than they’d attacked her, her fingers were able to curl around the wand now. The third burst overshot and lit the hedge on fire, the wand was firmly in her hand now.

Tilly rolled to her feet as smoke started to billow overhead. If this wasn’t the time for this to end then she wasn’t sure when was, but as stubborn and proud as always she would rather the whole maze burned down than she called for help with red sparks.

She stumbled out of the path she'd been on, nose in the crook of her elbow so she didn’t breathe in the smoke. That was when she saw it. The Triwizard Cup, gleaming in all its glory in a clearing about a hundred metres away. Tilly nearly laughed out loud at her luck. She’d made it. And first.

Her pace quickened as adrenaline took over. She hadn’t realised how much incredible it would be to win until this moment.

But as luck would have it her brother stumbled directly onto her path up front, staring at the cup like it was his last lifeline. He yelped when she darted past and was immediately quick on her heels.

Then a dark shape barged past them both. It was Cedric.

Tilly felt disappointment curling in her stomach. He would win, he was faster, had longer legs and could easily cover the distance before her or Harry could. For a brief moment she considered jinxing him from behind. Nothing serious, maybe just a tripping jinx, it would stop him in his tracks and then she would just have to outrun Harry.

Then Tilly saw something immense over the hedge to her left, moving quickly along the path that intersection with her own; it was moving so fast Cedric was about to run into it, and Cedric, his eyes in the cup, had not seen it -

“Cedric!” her brother bellowed. He must have seen it too. “On your left!”

Cedric looked around just in time to hurl himself past the thing and avoid colliding with it, but, in his haste, he tripped. Tilly saw Cedric’s wand fly out of his hand, as a gigantic spider stepped into the path and began to bear down upon Cedric.

“Stupefy,” Tilly yelled. Aiming her wand squarely at the hideous creature. The spell did nothing more than bounce off the armoured plating that covered the spider’s back. It did succeed in getting its attention however, the huge beast did a sort of double take and then, clacking its pincers angrily, ran straight at Tilly.

She gave a yelp of shock when it was upon her, the pincers inches from her face.

“Stupefy! STUPEFY!” Harry was yelling. Desperately trying to stun the spider before it ate Tilly whole.

Again they merely ricocheted off of it, like water on a duck’s back. It was getting annoyed now, if the way all eight eyes glinted dangerously was any indication. One of it’s legs shot out before Tilly could warn Harry, he was lifted into the air. Cedric had sat up and was trying to stun the best with the same luck as the twins.

Tilly had an idea and raised her wand.

“Expelliarmus!” She shouted, which by some miracle actually worked. The spider dropped Harry with a small squeal. Her brother hit the ground hard and Tilly swore she heard something crack.

The spider was stood upright now, arms flailing in anger and underbelly exposed. At the same time Tilly and Cedric both raised their wands at the soft underbelly.

“Stupefy!”

“Stupefy!”

The two spells combined did there trick, the spider was picked clean off its feet and throw through a hedge, knocking the whole wall over. It curled up like a ball and rolled, and didn't get back up.

All that could be heard were three sets of heavy breathing; Harry’s was particularly laboured as he agonised over his hurt leg. The Triwizard cup stood a metre away, gleaming in the dusk light. Cedric stood before it, his tall form blocking the light as he stared at the two of them.

Tilly ran to her twin’s side. she knelt down in the grass beside him to examine his leg, trying to see if he could get up. It was bleeding badly and Tilly could make out a thick gluey secretion where the spider’s pincer must have caught him. She hoisted him up, throwing his arm round her shoulder, holding him close and stabilising the two of them as his legs threatened to give way.

“Take it then,” Harry panted to Cedric. “Go on take it, you're there.”

But Cedric didn't move. He merely stood there looking at them both, then he turned to stare at the cup. Its golden glow illuminated his face and Tilly could see the longing in his features. But then he turned back, shaking himself out of his daze.

“We should all take it,” he stated firmly. “We all got here at the same time, we all fought that spider, and we all walked away. We all deserve it.”

In that moment Tilly realised she’d never met a truer Hufflepuff. Cedric was brave, and good and fair. The words he spoke were honest and just. So she nodded, and beside her Harry did the same. That act of agreement made Cedric smile bashfully, he evidently was glad they had seen it his way.

The twins stumbled forwards, Tilly still holding Harry up. They crowded the glowing cup and on Cedric’s count reached forwards. Instantly Tilly felt a jerk somewhere in her navel, her hand was stuck fast to the side of the cup and she was aware of the world starting to spin. The whole process felt all too familiar and she traced it back to when they had first arrived at the Wizard World cup back in August. The cup was a Portkey.


	14. Graveyards, Dark Lords and Parental Ghosts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Penultimate chapter of Fourth year. As much as Goblet of Fire is one of my favourite films, I cannot wait to move onto the narrative of Fifth year. Hope you enjoy this chapter and thank you to those that have left kind comments and kudos.

The first thing she expected to hear was cheering or applause. Instead their surroundings were silent, eerily so. Harry took a step forwards and his injured leg gave way again. Tilly no longer had the strength to hold him up and he sprawled awkwardly on the grass. The Triwizard cup lay a metre away discarded on the ground. Not one of them paid it much heed, too busy examining the graveyard they had landed in.

“Where are we?” Her brother asked.

Cedric shook his head. Tilly didn’t know either, her stomach was starting to hurt again, a stray thought she couldn’t catch was playing at the back of her mind. Something wasn’t right.

Harry was squinting at one of the graves in confusion. Then he squared his shoulders and leapt as best he could to his feet, wand drawn.

“Someone’s coming,” he hissed.

The three of them stared into the gloom, wands held high and breaths held tight. A figure was slow drawing nearer, walking steadily towards them between the graves. Tilly couldn’t make out a face; from the way they were walking, and holding their arms, it was clear they were carrying something.

As they got nearer, the thing in their arms started to look like - a baby? Or was it a bundle of robes? She couldn’t tell, and she was acutely aware of the eagle pin on her robes start to flutter quickly - like a humming bird. If Helena was good at charms, which Tilly had no doubt she was, this could mean no good.

The figure stopped beside a towering marble headstone, the one her brother had been watching beforehand, and still no one spoke. For a moment they merely stared at each other. And then a couple of things happened at once.

Harry was suddenly yelling, clutching his forehead and howling in agony. Tilly has never seen his scar react that badly before, perhaps when he had been around Quirrell but certainly not to this extent.

Tilly was suddenly immensely overcome with such a strong sense of hatred that it caused her to gasp. It was like a swirling beehive of emotions had attached themselves to her head. Anger, hatred and longing being among them. But they weren’t her emotions, she had a horrible feeling that they belonged to the bundle in the figure’s arms. She dreaded to think what was in the bundle that was filled with so much hate.

Then a far off hissing voice spoke, ‘ _kill the spare’._

“Avada Kedavra,” a second voice screeched, their voice rough.

The blast of green light flashed in front of Tilly’s eyes, bringing her back to that day in Defence Against the Dark Arts. And just like the spider’s body had, Cedric’s body crumpled beside her. He was thrown a few metres back and lay there spread eagled, glassy eyed, and dead … so very dead.

Tilly swallowed the bile threatening to rise as she stared at his once grey eyes that had now lost any sense of life and adventure that they once possessed. The scream tore through her without resistance though, high pitched, panicked, and displaying every ounce of pain, shock and horror that she had been carrying with her since she entered the maze.

“ _Silence_ ,” the voice hissed once again. The figure moved to wave their wand again and Tilly’s scream was cut off immediately, she merely lay gasping in horror on the floor, not taking her eyes off Cedric’s body for a second. A dark rope shot out from the end of the figure’s wand, wrapping tightly around her wrists and ankles, keeping her bound on the floor.

When she finally looked back it was to see her brother being dragged over to the marble headstone and getting tied to it. Harry struggled a bit and the figure hit him, with a hand missing a finger. It was Wormtail.

“You!” Her brother seethed, struggling against his bounds. If Tilly had been in any other state of mind apart from her current shellshocked one, she would’ve also attempted to charge the cowardly, snivelling excuse of a man.

However she was so out of it that she didn't even notice the snake. And then when she finally saw the gigantic, slithering serpent sliding through the grass, she let out nothing more than a slight hitch of her breath. It hissed threateningly as it passed, as if warning her to stay put, and carried on towards the headstone.

Wormtail was pushing something heavy along, if the grunts and puffs coming from him were any indication. When it came into view Tilly was confused, it was a large cauldron. Was this how it ends, the two of them getting boiled to death in a cauldron in the middle of a graveyard by their father’s traitorous best friend. She tried to call to Harry, see if he was alright, but not a sound managed to pass her lips. Whatever spell Wormtail used had efficiently silenced her.

The high, hissing voice spoke again as Wormtail set up the cauldron, which sounded full to the brim. With what though? Tilly dreaded to think.

‘ _Hurry_ ,’ it said.

Flames burst out from beneath the cauldron and the contents started to boil, very quickly. Quicker than Tilly had ever known a concoction to boil. Sparks were starting to flit across the surface of the liquid which was a horrible, milky white.

“It is ready, Master,” Wormtail said in that stuttering voice of his.

“ _Now_ ,” it demanded.

When the bundle of robes was finally opened, Harry’s yell of shock was muffled from the wad of material jammed into his mouth and Tilly’s never left her body. It was a hideous creature. About the size of a small toddler but unlike any child to ever exist with reddish black, raw skin, scaly and hairless. Its limbs were thin and cradled close to a bony torso. The face was probably the most disturbing - flat and snake light, with fiery red, gleaming eyes.

Wormtail then dropped the childlike creature into the potion, it fell through the air flailing, then quickly sank to the bottom, not reappearing back at the top. Then he raised his wand, pointing it the grave Harry was bound to.

“Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!” He spoke. His voice quivering, and Tilly didn’t need to tune in to the onslaught of terror coming from him to know he was scared out of his wits.

The surface of the grave cracked open, just below where Harry’s feet were dangling. A bone rose up from the crack, twisting and floating through the air. Wormtail brought it over the cauldron and let it drop. This caused the potion to send a torrent of sparks out in all directions and turn a vivid blue that looked horribly poisonous.

“Flesh of the servant,” Wormtail continued, he was sobbing now. “Willingly given, you will revive your master.”

His stretched his right arm out over the cauldron, the one with the missing finger. His left hand was clutching a thin silver dagger. Then with a swiftness Tilly wouldn’t expect from such a bumbling man, he cut clean through his right wrist, letting the appendage fall into the potion.

His scream cut through the night air like a sword, ripping through Tilly’s skull making her headache return full force from the damage the banshee had done to her earlier. The potion was now a bright, fiery red.

“Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken,” the man managed to spit out between moans of agony. “You will resurrect your foe.”

He was now approaching Harry, dagger shining in the light, still bearing his blood. Harry struggled uselessly, as did Tilly. She tried to roll herself over to where her wand lay, but only succeeded in flopping face first onto the grass. From this position she didn’t see what Wormtail did, but her twin’s screams and the earlier words gave her a good clue about what was happening. She tried to wriggle across the grass, not unlike a snake, tears of frustration streaming down her face and silent sobs racking her body.

She was acutely aware of a blinding white light coming from the cauldron. Wormtail had collapsed at the foot of the grave, job done for now. The cauldron was sparking again, until the sparks suddenly extinguished. White steam was now billowing, concealing the scene from Tilly’s sight.

So it was only when she heard the familiar hissing voice saying-

“ _Robe me_.”

-that she knew what had happened. To confirm her suspicions, when the smoke cleared, she saw a tall, thin man cloaked in black. He was stepping out of the cauldron, skin gleaming like clean bone and a nose flat like a snake’s. But it was the eyes, the vivid scarlet eyes that hadn’t stopped staring at Harry that gave him away.

Lord Voldemort had risen.

+++

Voldemort had finally looked away from Harry and was examining his own body; his _new_ body. Long skeletal fingers, bony chest peaking out from where his robes crossed over, the two flat slits that acted as nostrils without a hint of a nose and the red eyes that were slitted like a cat’s.

Wormtail was still laying somewhere near his feet, twitching and bleeding, but he paid him no notice. Voldemort was back to examining his own hands, and then he dipped one into the deep pocket of the robes he’d been supplied with. Emerging with a wand.

With the subtlest wave of it Wormtail was picked up and thrown through the air, he hit a headstone and crumpled to the ground before it, whimpering pitifully. Voldemort laughed, looking at Harry as he did so, it was a cold laugh, high and mirthless.

“My Lord,” Wormtail gasped. “My Lord you promised.”

“Hold out your arm Wormtail,” Voldemort spoke softly and lazily, still managing to exude malice and power despite that.

“Oh, master … thank you, master…”

He extended the bleeding stump to the Dark Lord, a look of weak hope shining in his watery eyes. Voldemort’s eyes narrowed even further at the action.

“The other arm Wormtail,” he shot back, tilting his head at his servant as if judging whether he was really worth keeping.

“Master, please … please,” he begged, sniffing back snot as tears started to run again.

Voldemort ignored him, bending down himself and grabbing the man’s arm. He turned it over to expose his forearm where a black faded tattoo sat, depicting a snake coming out of a skull’s mouth. The same symbol Tilly had seen at the World Cup, the dark mark. The snake started to writhe the minute Voldemort had made contact with the arm.

Tilly had never seen magical tattoos but it made sense that they could move, a lot like photographs in the wizarding world. Voldemort raised a long, bony forefinger and pressed down onto the centre of the mark. It immediately turned a jet black, as if it had just been freshly inked. Wormtail let out a howl of pain at the action, and Harry’s yells had increased in volume.

“You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father. A muggle and a fool … very like your dear dead mother,” Voldemort started saying.

At the mention of their mother Tilly started squirming in anger, trying desperately to reach her wand, to curse or hex or even just throw something at the man who killed her parents. She knew it would be no use, she couldn’t even talk, let alone cast a spell powerful enough to hurt him.

At that point Voldemort seemed to notice her for the first time.

“Ah Matilda, I’m glad you could make it. You do look like your mother you know, the only difference is you aren’t a filthy muggle, are you?” he said, and with a wave of his wand Tilly felt her voice return to her.

“Stop talking about her,” she growled, green eyes locked with his red ones in a fierce gaze.

He sighed in what appeared to be disappointment.

“You have such potential Matilda, and you squander it by standing by those not worthy of magic, it is truly a shame,” he said. “Ah but look, my followers return, let us see who was brave enough to come here tonight shall we.”

Cloaked figures had started appearing out of thin air behind graves. They approached cautiously forming a circle around Tom Riddle’s grave. They were hooded and masked, the same attire she had seen from the people at the World Cup. The Death Eaters had arrived.

“Welcome Death Eaters,” said Voldemort. He splayed his arms outwards in what seemed like a welcoming gesture. “Thirteen years … thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday … we are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we?”

A shiver ran through the circle of Death Eaters, as they all seemingly realised the potentialconsequences their master would inflict due to their actions upon his disappearance.

“I ask myself why none of you came to my aid, to the master you swore loyalty to,” he continued, his tone dangerously soft.

One of the Death Eaters suddenly flung himself forward onto the ground at the Dark Lord’s feet.

“Master,” he shrieked. “Forgive me! Forgive us all!”

“Crucio,” Voldemort responded, with a cruel laugh and an even crueler smile.

Tilly felt sick as the Death Eater writhed and screamed on the ground, the sounds pierced the air and she wouldn’t be surprised if it carried towards the houses around. Would anyone come? Tilly wondered. Anyone foolish enough to oppose Voldemort wouldn’t last long, she realised.

“Get up Avery,” Voldemort said, releasing the man from his agony. “You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive, or forget. Thirteen long years I waited … I want thirteen years of repayment. Wormtail here has already paid back some of that debt, haven’t you Wormtail?”

“Yes Master,” Wormtail mumbled, too lost in his pain to comprehend much else. Still he continued to beg for whatever he had been promised. “Master … please.”

Tilly thought she almost imagined the irritation pass over Voldemort’s face. She didn’t blame him, if Wormtail worked for her she would be in an almost constant state of annoyance over the pathetic man. Finally he seemed to relent.

He whirled his wand through the air and a molten glob of silver swept past. It formed a shapeless mass that then began to morph into a hand, a silver hand. Once it was shaped it flew down and attached itself to Wormtail’s wrist. The act of which finally put a stop to his sobbing.

The watery eyed man looked at it in awe, rotating the wrist it was attached to and almost chuckling in disbelief. His tears had mixed with the snot dripping from this nose from where he had been crying, it gave him a very slimy appearance, one Tilly couldn’t look at for long. Her hatred of the man was increasing by the minute, if it could even get any higher.

“See,” Voldemort said, pointing his toe at Wormtail. “Your Lord rewards those that help him.”

He had begun to walk around the circle, observing the figures that stood there, and looking at the gaps that had been left. He stopped at a gap large enough for two people.

“The Lestranges should stand here. But they are entombed in Azkaban. They were faithful. They went to Azkaban rather than renounce me. When Azkaban is broken open, the Lestranges will be honoured beyond their dreams.” He spoke quietly but surely.

Tilly felt her blood run cold at the mention of Helena’s parents. The woman with the wild hair and the man with his daughter’s eyes.

Addressing various Death Eaters he scolded them for their wavering loyalties. _Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, Macnair._ They all cowered before him, and more than half shared the names of the Slytherin’s in Tilly’s year.

After he had completed his circle he turned to look at Harry.

“And here, through the efforts of my most faithful servant who resides at Hogwarts, and whom has already returned to my service, we have the guest of honour. Harry Potter,” he sneered the name as a mockery of how globally revered the boy was.

“You know of course that they have called this boy my downfall,” he said softly. “You all know that on the night I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill him. His mother died in the attempt to save her children - and unwittingly provided him with a protection I admit I had not foreseen … I could not touch the boy.”

He was now stood directly in front of Harry with one long finger raised towards his face. Tilly stared from her place on the ground, frozen in anticipation and terror. Her wand was still lying a foot away, out of reach. Voldemort continued his recount of the night of his downfall.

“His mother left upon him the traces of her sacrifice … this is old magic, I should have remembered it, I was foolish to overlook it … but no matter, I can touch him now,” he hissed.

That slender finger inched forwards and prodded Harry square on the forehead, right on his scar. Her brother roared, his whole body squirming as he desperately tried to get away from the pain in his head.

Voldemort abandoned his torture of Harry in favour of looking down at Cedric’s dead body that was still near Tilly. He stuck his right foot out and turned the cheek of Cedric’s limp, ashen grey face.

“Such a handsome boy,” he muttered.

“Don’t touch him,” Tilly snarled, flopping forward best she could with wrists and ankles still bound.

Voldemort’s face lit up slightly, as much as the tight scaly skin and slitted eyes would allow for.

“Oh Death Eaters, I almost forgot, our other guest tonight … sister to the boy who lived. Matilda Potter,” he said, a few of the masked men jeered and scoffed. To which Voldemort merely laughed.

“How does it feel Matilda, to only be known for the actions of your _heroic_ brother, while living with the knowledge that you had the potential to outshine him. You see Death Eaters when I went to Godric’s Hollow thirteen years ago I had been informed of a boy who would bring about my downfall, after I killed dear sweet Lily Potter I looked at the child who had been prophesied to overpower me. Then I noticed the second child, and the power I felt from her was overwhelming. I know potential when I see it.”

He fixed Tilly with a gaze so malicious yet with an intensity that told her he wasn’t lying. What exactly had he seen in her, she wondered.

“I am a wizard who respects power after all, so I offer her a chance. You can watch me kill your brother, and then you can join me in my quest to rid our world on non magical scum … or you can join him in death.” He said, a sadistic smile flickering across his lips which were stretched almost painfully over his grey teeth.

He did pose it as an offer, but Tilly knew deep down that there was no choice, for some reason he wanted her, and he was a wizard used to getting what he wants.

Still, she reasoned, she’d rather die than stand by his side while he eradicated Muggles and Muggle borns from the world. She felt ill just thinking about the potential genocide. So mustering up every piece of hate that she had for this man, she spat at him. It probably would have hit him if he were anyone else, but before it could it stopped mid air and fell to the ground. His grin had now disappeared and his body language was angry.

He waved his wand through the air causing Harry to fall from the grave stone and Tilly’s bounds to dematerialise. 

“Come on then Potters pick up your wands, you think you are so brave … how about we duel. Surely Dumbledore taught you both to duel.” He shouted, bouncing around within the ring the Death Eaters had formed around them. Like a child waiting to play with a new toy.

Tilly could finally sit upright, she could get up, she could run. But where could she go? She wouldn’t get two metres before she’d be cursed dead on the spot. Plus she couldn’t leave her brother, no matter how much they bickered she knew he wouldn’t leave her. Either they both got out of this or neither of them did.

Harry was scrambling on the floor for his wand, and when he stood his leg shook slightly under the strain of his body. He looked her way and when two sets of identical green eyes met the fear was evident in both. Tilly didn’t know what to do, to say, to suggest. But at that point it was too late. She stood as well, wand clutched in a shaking hand that she prayed would still.

“We bow to each other. Come on, Dumbledore wouldn’t want you to forget your manners,” he snarled. “Bow!’

Tilly felt a great force on her spine, almost like a hand forcing her to bend forward into a hunched bow. Beside her Harry did the same, his face contorted in pain and his breathing heavy. Around them the Death Eaters laughed at the show their Lord was putting on for them.

“Well done, and now we duel,” he shouted.

Tilly’s stunning spell and Harry’s disarming spell shot forward and had barely been deflected when the torture curse struck. She hadn’t even heard the shout of ‘Crucio’ over the sound of her own beating heart, but the absolute agony that wracked her body left no doubt in her kind what spell it was.

She fell to the floor, writing like the Death Eater had before, like the spider in Moody’s class had. She heard a cruel laugh in the distance, as if it was at the end of a long tunnel. It was a miracle she could hear anything at all over the sound of her own bloodcurdling screams.

What was in reality, ten seconds, lasted five minutes in her head; By the time she had been released from the pain, she was panting. Her brother was staring at her with tears of anger and fear in his eyes, he’d had to watch her be tortured without being able to do anything.

“Look Harry, look at what I did to her, look at how I hurt her. You don’t want me to do that to you do you? Do you? Answer me Harry do you want me to do that to you,” he growled harshly.

He paused when her brother stared back stony faced, Tilly almost sobbed, he was so strong willed. Then Voldemort decided he’d had enough of the insolence. “Imperio!”

Harry’s eyes glossed over but his mouth never moved, never said the words. She could almost hear the eternal struggle. Then he did speak, or shouted rather…

“I WON’T.”

Voldemort looked shocked. He evidently hadn’t encountered many witches or wizards who could fight an Imperius curse, let alone one so young.

“You won’t say no?” Voldemort questioned. A hint of amusement was now present in his voice. “Does this mean our duel is over, would you prefer me to end it now.”

Tilly had stood at this point, stumbling closer to her brother. Who then, without a word of warning, grabbed her and threw himself and her behind the nearest gravestone. Just in time so that the curse Voldemort sent their way sailed over their heads instead of hitting them.

“Oh come on now Harry, don’t hide. Come out and play, it’ll be quick and painless … probably. You see I’ve never truly died,” his voice said tauntingly. A torrent of cackles and laughs accompanied his jests.

Tilly laid a hand on Harry’s arm. Her brother turned to her with wide, desperate eyes. She knew what he thought he had to do and shook her head no. He went to say something but swallowed it down. He’d already decided.

Taking a deep breath, Tilly made the decision she wouldn’t allow him to face their foe alone. With a nod between them and a silent countdown they both sprung up from behind their hiding place. Three voices sounded at once.

“Stupefy.”

“Expelliarmus.”

  
  
“Avada Kedavra.”

Instantaneously Tilly knew something went wrong. She had seen the red light from her own wand bounce harmlessly away before even reaching Voldemort. But Harry’s spell had connected with the green light from Voldemort’s and had now formed a golden beam of light between the two wands. It had formed a dome of gold magic, centred around Harry and Voldemort, and Tilly just so happened to be in the middle.

However that was not the occurrence that confused Tilly the most. Because after falling to her knees within the dome of golden magic and seeing the look of intense concentration and strain on Voldemort’s face, she felt a tug in her mind. Like a string attached to the right side of her skull.

That was when she saw it, flashes, memories. Fleeting glimpses at a life she’d never lived:

_A small boy sitting in a barely furnished room staring at a bare wardrobe. Loneliness, sadness and despair crashed through her mind like a Tsunami, radiating off him like heat from a furnace._

_The same boy on the Hogwarts express, wearing a green tie, pulling into King’s Cross, getting out onto the platform to see no one there to greet him at the station. His face screwed up for a split second then settled back into a facade of indifference. Anger, resentment and hatred swirled in Tilly’s head like a storm._

_A teen version of the same boy, looking familiar enough to recognise but not enough to place. Whispering into a dark corner to a presence that couldn’t be seen but could be felt clear as day. Satisfaction, cunning and wicked glee encompassed the scene like a fog, so potent it was almost visible._

_An older, more handsome version of the boy stood over a dead man, a ring held proudly in his hands, the feeling of power and catharsis nestled deep into his heart. The man’s features held a likeness to the man with the ring, almost an aged version of him._

Tilly gasped, snapping out of her daze and found herself sprawled on all fours in the grass. Harry and Voldemort were still locked in a standstill, neither party willing to break the link for fear of what would happen. Golden shapes were floating around Harry, on closer inspection they appeared to be people. When she recognised the faces she felt her heart lurch and her stomach drop.

“Mum,” she whispered.

One golden figure held the kindest eyes she had ever seen and a smile so like her own, their eyes crinkled at the same spot when they smiled and Tilly had to stop herself from bursting into tears. She saw her father behind, who Harry was looking at in awe.

Cedric stood on the other side of Harry along with a man and women Tilly didn’t recognise.

They whispered words of encouragement to Harry, telling him not to break the connection.

“Hello my darling girl,” her mother said, having noticed her staring. “You are doing so well.”

“In a moment you must break the connection. Get to the cup and it will take you back,” her father said. “We’re so proud of the two of you.”

“Take my body back would you,” Cedric said, looking between the twins. “Take my body back to my father.”

They both nodded. It was nearly time. Harry wouldn’t be able to hold the connection much longer, his arms were shaking like a leaf.

“Let go,” Lily prompted. “Let go my sweet boy.”

Harry did. He jerked his wand upwards, breaking the connection. Tilly jumped up while Voldemort was flung back into his Death Eaters. She threw herself onto Cedric’s body, holding her hand out for her brother to take. He grabbed it, summoning the Triwizard Cup. As soon as it was in his grasp Tilly felt the familiar tug behind her navel and her world spinning. They spun and spun and didn’t stop until they hit the ground with a thud.


End file.
